#prove that it's Not Bad. but I also am not sure how much it helps to speak in absolutes? like 'never do this when writing'

[soldearestsoulmate]

Sol and MC Jaylene

One of my ideas of Sol's reaction to learning about Jaylene's dark traumatic past...

(I expected to add more to this but am dropping it now. So have it as is, mistakes and all. lol)

Warnings: Drugging, manipulation, gaslighting, nonconsensual acts and touching.

"Oh...Pumpkin...I promise you. No one will hurt you ever again. I promise you'll be shown only my unwavering love, devotion and protection." Sol smiles softly, his eyes held warmth and love for them. But there was something else hidden behind his gaze. "...I really do love and treasure you, you know?" He gently cupped their face in his hand, which Jaylene flinched at at first, but then relaxed a little. "So much so...I want to prove it to you now. If you'd allow me..."

"I...I don't know, Sol. Maybe its--" Sol gently places a finger against their lips, letting out a soft "Shhh".

"It's okay. I know you're scared. It's to be expected, after all...But we'll take it slow. I promise, to be gentle and if you feel uncomfortable. I'll stop." He sounded honest on his words. And the way he held their hand and caressed it to help them try to relax more helped lower their guard a little. Though there was still some doubt and fears in their mind they couldn't push out.

"...I don't think I shoul--..." Sol let his hand go and stood up from his seat on the couch next to them. "Sol?"

"I'll be right back. Stay right here, alright?" Sol didn't give them chance to respond as he ran off to the kitchen. He was quick with his moves, he knew exactly what he was getting, and doing. But before they could try to see him add a extra ingredient into the drink he was preparing for them, even though he was blocking their view. Jaylene was distracted by a text message from Crowe suddenly.

They looked at it with a tired gaze, but didn't reply yet. Later they thought, when they were feeling better. But as they turned off their phone for the moment. Sol arrived back with a cup in hand, with what looked like to be juice in it.

"Here. I'm sure this will help relax yourself." He said with a smile, as he sat down next to them again. Handing over the cup for them to take and drink.

"Juice...Why not coffee?" They lightly joked, but really some coffee would of been nice.

"I wouldn't advise it...Caffeine and all..." He had a point there. So they nodded lightly and then drank some of the juice...As Sol watched intently. Then drank a little more. Then more as time passed with Sol. As he talked about stuff with them, all to get them more engrossed in the moment, until the cup was empty.

"Oh...Guess I was thirsty..." Sol took the cup from their hand, setting it down on the table near by. Then focused his attention back on them as he stared at them with a smile. Not saying a word as he watched them yawn suddenly, as he expected.

"Mhm..." Sol raised a hand and gently caressed their face again. Which only helped coax them to close their eyes more as sleep suddenly took over them. "That's right, my love...Just close your eyes and sleep...You need it."

"I don't want to...though..." Their words came out in mumbles until finally they were out cold. Sol chuckled softly as he leaned in close, giving their forehead a light kiss, then stood up from his seat to gently pick them up in his arms and carry them to bed.

"I promise you...I'll erase all those bad things they done to you...and replace them with my loving touches...You'll only think of me and feel me...You'll only feel safe with me and want this from me...Its how it should be after all, pumpkin. That's what fate wants for us." Sol softly said these things as he walked to them to their room. Then gently laid them down on the bed.

His eyes scanned their body, already mentally undressing them, but also imagining the things that were done to them in the past by another. A man not deserving of their presence, their love, their everything.

It angered him.

"If I ever meet that guy...I promise, my love..." He leaned in to kiss their neck, slowly taking in their scent, which it alone was a high to him. "I'll kill him."

[musical-chick-13]

I know the point of "Don't have your characters use therapy-speak" is "Don't put dialogue in your story that makes things seem stilted/breaks immersion for the purpose of proving that This Isn't Actually An Unhealthy Situation, I Promise Guys," but nonetheless it is starting to give me a complex over writing these characters like. Communicating. Just at all.

[porcupine-girl]

An important message to college students: Why you shouldn't use ChatGPT or other "AI" to write papers.

Here's the thing: Unlike plagiarism, where I can always find the exact source a student used, it's difficult to impossible to prove that a student used ChatGPT to write their paper. Which means I have to grade it as though the student wrote it.

So if your professor can't prove it, why shouldn't you use it?

Well, first off, it doesn't write good papers. Grading them as if the student did write it themself, so far I've given GPT-enhanced papers two Ds and an F.

If you're unlucky enough to get a professor like me, they've designed their assignments to be hard to plagiarize, which means they'll also be hard to get "AI" to write well. To get a good paper out of ChatGPT for my class, you'd have to write a prompt that's so long, with so many specifics, that you might as well just write the paper yourself.

ChatGPT absolutely loves to make broad, vague statements about, for example, what topics a book covers. Sadly for my students, I ask for specific examples from the book, and it's not so good at that. Nor is it good at explaining exactly why that example is connected to a concept from class. To get a good paper out of it, you'd have to have already identified the concepts you want to discuss and the relevant examples, and quite honestly if you can do that it'll be easier to write your own paper than to coax ChatGPT to write a decent paper.

The second reason you shouldn't do it?

IT WILL PUT YOUR PROFESSOR IN A REALLY FUCKING BAD MOOD. WHEN I'M IN A BAD MOOD I AM NOT GOING TO BE GENEROUS WITH MY GRADING.

I can't prove it's written by ChatGPT, but I can tell. It does not write like a college freshman. It writes like a professional copywriter churning out articles for a content farm. And much like a large language model, the more papers written by it I see, the better I get at identifying it, because it turns out there are certain phrases it really, really likes using.

Once I think you're using ChatGPT I will be extremely annoyed while I grade your paper. I will grade it as if you wrote it, but I will not grade it generously. I will not give you the benefit of the doubt if I'm not sure whether you understood a concept or not. I will not squint and try to understand how you thought two things are connected that I do not think are connected.

Moreover, I will continue to not feel generous when calculating your final grade for the class. Usually, if someone has been coming to class regularly all semester, turned things in on time, etc, then I might be willing to give them a tiny bit of help - round a 79.3% up to a B-, say. If you get a 79.3%, you will get your C+ and you'd better be thankful for it, because if you try to complain or claim you weren't using AI, I'll be letting the college's academic disciplinary committee decide what grade you should get.

Eventually my school will probably write actual guidelines for me to follow when I suspect use of AI, but for now, it's the wild west and it is in your best interest to avoid a showdown with me.

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Just Like His Father

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x reader

Warnings: none, pure fluff, I actually saw this on tiktok and thought it'd be cute to make sth out of it

You were in the kitchen finishing making dinner when your husband returned from a business meeting.

"Hey, love" Lewis greeted you as he entered the kitchen.

"Hey, baby" You smiled as he stood behind you and wrapped his arms around you leaving a kiss on your cheek. "You tired?"

"No, but I am starving." He sighed. "What's for dinner?"

"Curry chicken and rice. It'll be ready in a minute, you can sit at the table"

"Oh, yes, please.." He groaned. "Where's Marlo?"

"He should be in his room doing his homework. The young gentleman didn't have lunch today so he has to eat dinner" You chuckled remembering the talk you had with your son earlier today. Marlo was 5 years old and in preschool. He was the smartest, most lovable, but also unintentionally the funniest kid ever.

"Marlo, daddy's home!" You shouted. "Wash your hands and come sit at the table"

"Why were you laughing when you said he didn't have lunch today?" Lewis asked curiously.

"Oh you just wait till you hear it from him" You giggled taking the dish and walking with it over to the table.

When Marlo washed his hands, he ran into the kitchen extending his arms towards Lewis. "Daddy!" He screamed with joy seeing him.

"Buddy" Lewis softened, picking him up in his arms and hugging him tightly. "I missed you. Did you have a good day at school?" He asked.

"Yup" Marlo nodded.

"Tell daddy what happened at school today" You said trying to refrain from laughing so that Marlo doesn't think you're making fun of him.

"What happened at school?" Lewis was still confused. "Did someone mess with you? Did someone touch you? Y/n?" He was already visibly upset and paternal protective instincts kicked in within seconds.

"No, no-"

"Mom did.." Marlo blurted out and his gaze shifted to you. “Mom messed with me..”

"What do you mean?"

"Marlo, did you eat your lunch at school today?" You asked crossing your arms and leaning your elbows onto the table waiting for his response.

"I didn't actually" He said turning to Lewis.

"And why is that?" Lewis asked.

"Because my girlfriend was sat right across from me and you put a note that said I love you babe" Marlo explained pointing his finger at you.

Lewis paused for a second, blinking a couple of times before bursting into laughter. "Your girlfriend, buddy? You have a girlfriend?"

"I'm not sure if I still have one after today" He sighed.

"Oh, your girlfriend didn't like mom's note?"

"No! She got mad!"

You chuckled again remembering how upset he was about it earlier today when he first told you the story. You felt bad for him, but you couldn't help but laugh at the kid stuff that was concerning him.

"And what did you do after that?" Lewis listened intently as you put food on the plates for both of them.

"Nothing, I explained to her that she's married to my dad and I said that my dad is Lewis Hamilton."

"You hear how beautifully he emphasized that my husband is none other than Lewis Hamilton" You joked as Lewis held his head laughing.

"What? I didn't say anything wrong?" Marlo shrugged his shoulders. Love problems were clearly too much for the young man.

"Baby, no girl will ever love you as much as your mom loves you, remember that." You stood up from your chair and walked over to him placing his small face between your hands and kissing his forehead.

"Well, she doesn't have to know that!" Marlo defended.

"Okay, okay. No more notes in lunch boxes just so that your girlfriend doesn't feel like I'm a threat to her apparently" You playfully rolled your eyes going back to your seat. "Now, please start eating your dinner"

"But I still don't understand, regardless of the note, why didn't you eat your lunch?" Lewis asked him.

"Because I wanted to prove her how much I loved her." He sighed before continuing "Dad once told me how he proves his love for you by eating everything you cook even though sometimes he may not like it, but he eats everything because he loves you. I just did the opposite."

Your and Lewis' hearts melted when you hear him say it. You were so proud of your little boy who was too young to know what love was but he learned it so well from his daddy. you knew that one day he would make some girl the happiest girl in the world, just like his father made you and continues to do so day after day.

After dinner was over, both you and Lewis wanted to get Marlo ready for bed. After you gave him a shower and Lewis helped him brush his teeth, you read him a bedtime story and cuddled him before saying goodnight. You also made pinky promises that there would be no more "embarrassing" notes from mom in the lunchbox, and that Marlo would eat his lunch every day.

After that you and Lewis decided to relax on the couch in front of the TV in each other's arms.

"If one day we have a daughter and she comes to me at the age of 5 and says she has a boyfriend, I swear, I will lose my mind" Lewis said jokingly even though you knew he meant it.

"Yeah, we'll homeschool her so she doesn't have any contact with the boys" You said sarcastically rolling your eyes at him.

"Exactly! That's a great idea actually!" He seemed to love it of course.

"Oh stop it!"

"As you told our son today, so I will tell our daughter, no man in her life will ever love her more than me. That's a fact. I already love her."

"Baby, we don't even have a daughter...yet"

"Then I better get to work, no?" He smirked rolling you over and nuzzling his head into your neck making you giggle.

"Well, you better, Lewis Hamilton."

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 9: The One Where You Choose Your Own Brazilian Adventure

My planned post – the “In Dedication of JVN” one where I fangirl over Jonathan Van Ness and what a fun and interesting piece of the Lukola puzzle he is – was derailed today because I was once again asked about Brazil. Well, more specifically, I was asked about whether I thought we were ever going to get those steamy, hopefully X-rated pictures, from Brazil. There’s pictures?!

In truth, I thought we’d collectively squeezed that grapefruit dry and left the rind somewhere between Italy and the Glamour Awards.

Alas, here I am writing about Brazil.

It’s funny because I’ve never thought much about Brazil. I know, I know! How could I possibly type those words without my nose growing six inches in front of my face? Well, it’s because it was always Australia that intrigued me. More on that later…

So why exactly do we believe there are pictures from Brazil? And, why do we think they are going to prove some kind of hot affair between Luke and Nicola? This theory is likely fueled by rumor; rumor born from how Luke and Nicola behaved towards each other while they were in Brazil.

I thought it would be fun to play a little game of “Choose Your Own Adventure” to determine if we’re ever going to see these alleged pictures. And, yes, I will be a very sarcastic bitch when doing this.

Before I start, though, I want to give a quick shout out to my dear friend, whom I shall call The-One-Who-Drops-Random-Pics-Into-Our-Group-Chat-and-Lets-Us-Sweat-Over-Them-for-Atleast-Three-Minutes-Before-Finally-Explaining-Them. She was a wealth of information about Brazil and even had a nice mother-daughter chat with me about the significance of a clean-shaven face (pardon me for never having dated a bearded man, which is odd because I find facial hair quite attractive).

Now, gather ‘round and I shall give you a little prologue to our adventure!

I’m sure most of you already know all about Brazil. In fact, many of you are probably self-described experts at this point. But, for those who are new here, let me go ahead and light the candles and set the ambiance for you. 

On May 19, Luke and Nicola were shuttled off to do their beach photoshoot in Brazil. You know, the one where Nicola was walking the dogs; Luke was strumming the guitar; Nicola was being all girlfriend-like fixing Luke’s jacket; Luke was gazing up at Nicola at the pub while she was touching his neck; and then there was that moment when we all thought they might kiss. Yeah, all that plus Luke’s scruffy face from the week prior suddenly appeared clean-shaven. Apparently, you can never be too “Casual” when you’re headed down south (pun intended – as was that Chappell Roan reference). And, about now is where I’ll “insert disclaimer that this is speculation only.”

The following day, we had the actual premiere. I’m not sure what those two were up to before the premiere but both were un-fucking-hinged by the time they made it to the red carpet. We had angel-face Nicola looking up at Luke like he had created the universe and Luke answering Nicola’s Little Red Riding Hood vibe with one sexy ass Big Bad Wolf persona. I mean, the bits and bobs that came out of Luke’s mouth that day! “There’s a carriage downstairs.” “I mean, in this heat, all I’m thinking about is when we didn’t have to wear clothes ‘cos that would be quite nice right now.” “I mean the show is proof that it is [okay to kiss your friends].” With Nicola whispering back, “This is true.” Then there was Luke taking that mic without taking his eyes off Nicola. We had Luke helping Nicola put on her bracelets because – God forbid! – she let go of him for 30 seconds to do it her fucking self. And, let’s not forget about the two of them holding on to each other behind that woman’s back (I’m sorry, I don’t recall her name and I’m too lazy to look it up – mainly, because I’m certain most of you don’t really care about that other woman).

We were also given snippets of Luke and Nicola at the premiere afterparty, looking like two people who, at a minimum, enjoyed each other’s company. They greeted fans outside the venue and, as they walked away together, Nicola seemingly put her hand on Luke’s lower back as if to guide him in the right direction (go ahead – let your imagination run wild – it’s a great opening for a FanFic).

Then, throw in the beach walk with the giant security guard; the interview where Nicola was wearing the fluffy pink skirt and the two of them talked about Chappell Roan’s “Kaleidoscope” (seriously, those two were listening to that song together?); Nicola couldn’t stop giggling about the “meat” of the Carriage Scene; and Luke appeared perhaps a smidge too interested in Nicola’s answer about what she looks for in a man (which fit perfectly into Luke’s “Like, how nice is it when someone notices, like, your kindness or your sense of humor?”). And, we can’t ignore them seemingly sharing a tea cup and Luke reaching for Nicola’s spoon after she’d sampled a dish. Don’t even get me started on over-analyzing Luke’s “manspread” that day.

Let’s also not forget about the rumor portion of this Brazilian escapade – because that is what fuels the sexy hot pictures theory and the central plot of our storied adventure.

Rumor has it Luke and Nicola spent a lot of time with each other in Brazil.

By themselves.

In one or the other’s room.

On the beach.

By the pool.

There were also rumors of them making out in the hotel hallway.

The only evidence we have of any “alone time” are some pictures that were dumped on X of them dining together alone, without any other members of their team.

Now that the backdrop has been set, let’s go on my little adventure.

During the summer between my 7th and 8th grade years, I was bored out of my mind. I grew up in the countryside. No neighbors. No sidewalks. No cable! Just fields, wooded areas, and my two sisters, both of whom had no interest in entertaining me that summer. My mother suggested I read. After boredom had dug itself so far into my being that I was left with no choice but to read, I finally ventured over to the bookshelf and grabbed the thinnest book I could find. It was a “Choose Your Own Adventure.”

If you don’t know what a “Choose Your Own Adventure” book is, then you (and your children) are missing out. Basically, you play the role of the protagonist and make choices to determine the outcome of your story. Sometimes you make the right choice and survive; other times you make the wrong choice and get turned into a little mouse that may or may not be eaten by a cat.

Here we go.

As the protagonist of our story, you are:

THE EMPLOYEE

You’re an employee of the hotel Nicola and Luke stayed at while in Brazil. You have sworn to maintain the privacy of hotel guests; you’ve signed a non-disclosure agreement of sorts to protect the privacy of guests, especially since you have access to VIP areas. You can be a housekeeper, a watchman, a concierge, a seven-foot-tall security guard, whatever tickles your fancy. Doesn’t matter – you’re all bound by the same provisions to protect the privacy of the hotel’s guests. But, in this story, let’s say you’re the housekeeper because – what’s that old saying – the only person who knows everything going on in the house is the maid?

You’re cleaning Nicola’s room and you find lots of signs of a man being in the room. In fact, you find a coat that looks exactly like the one Luke was wearing the night of the premiere. Oh my. As you’re leaving, you see two people making out in the hallway – headed straight towards the room you’re just leaving!  It looks like Nicola and Luke. What do you do?

Choice A: Well, you’re a pervy housekeeper so you pull your phone out and start taking pictures. I mean, those two are so into each other, they don’t even notice. You then run and play show-and-tell with your friends because you can’t keep a damn secret. Unfortunately for you, that gossip spreads faster than lice in a preschool, and hotel management tracks your ass down because, guess what, your friends can’t keep a secret either. So, congratulations on being fired. You’re meeting with the lawyers is first thing in the morning. Oh, we also need your phone and the names of all your friends.

Choice B: You respect the privacy of Nicola and Luke and simply turn and walk the opposite direction. Taking photos of them never even crossed your mind! But, damn, what a good story to tell your bestie when you get home, even if you don’t have “receipts.”

THE VIP GUEST

You’re a random guest staying at the hotel. In fact, you’re a random VIP guest staying on the same floor as Nicola and Luke. When you checked in, you signed a non-disclosure agreement. I mean, you want your privacy protected, too! And, heck, NDAs are thrown out like candy these days. You’ve seen so many at this point, you don’t even bother to read them.

You take the elevator up to your floor and, as you step into the hallway, you’re confronted with – goddammit, there’s two motherfuckers all over each other! The guy is trying to slide his key into the door, but the woman’s dress is so awkwardly large, he can’t seem to find the right slot! You realize the people look a lot like those two stars from Bridgerton, and your best friend, Effie, is a huge fan! What do you do?

Choice A: You can’t believe Effie is missing out on this excitement so, of course, you pull your phone out and start taking pictures!! I mean, that NDA you signed didn’t even cross your mind three minutes later when you were forwarding the pictures to Effie! And, because you can’t control what Effie does, she forwards the pictures to all her Bridgie buddies. The next morning you awaken to find the pictures all over X. Oopsie. You feel slightly guilty, and a bit peeved at Effie – but only until you’ve had your morning coffee.

Choice B: You take people’s privacy very seriously. Well, maybe you don’t take it that seriously, but it would be too difficult to dig your phone out of your handbag to take pictures. And, to be honest, Effie is the huge fan, not you. Plus, it seems the guy finally got that door open and damn, based on the sounds of it, he's unlocked something magical. Oh well. You’ll call Effie in the morning to tell her your story, if you remember it.

THE RANDOM STRANGER

You’re a random stranger taking an evening stroll along the beach. You love the sound of the ocean. It’s so peaceful…the sound of the waves… Ugh, what is that noise?! It sounds like – shit, it is! – two people snogging in a cabana about 10 yards away from you. Wait a minute – is that? Yeah, you think it could be! I mean, you were just at the Bridgerton premiere last night! What do you do? Without hesitation, you pull out your phone!

Choice A: You creep behind an umbrella and zoom in as close as possible with your camera! I mean, shite! You can’t believe this! How long have you been filming?  Probably longer than necessary but who cares? Suddenly, you feel a presence behind you, perhaps a seven-foot-tall presence, and you slowly turn around. Fuck! Who’s this guy?! He takes your phone, drops it to the ground, and stomps on it, shattering its insides.  Asshole.  You bend down to pick up the phone, but the man taps your shoulder and shakes his head, “No.” Well, umm, yeah, I guess you best be leaving.

Choice B: You use your camera to zoom in on the couple. Snap! Snap! Snap! Then you get the FUCK OUT OF THERE! You tell yourself you don’t look suspicious at all, even though you’re practically running and your heart is about to pound its way out of your chest! Oh, thank God, you’ve made it to your car. You start it up and, like I said, YOU GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE! You get home and take a look at the photos! Goldmine! So, should you drop them on X? Maybe be a little see-you-next-Tuesday and try to sell them to Nicola or Luke’s teams? But, hell, you don’t even know where to start with that! Or, should you just pocket them for your own pleasure? You tell me….

The End.

Yes, I am absolutely being a facetious little ass! The above scenarios were for (the most part) my own entertainment. I mean, there are so many situations where these alleged pictures could exist (these playful ones don’t even scratch the surface). But, do the pictures exist?

If we’re being logical here, you would think that, if anyone in the general public were in possession of these alleged sexy-time pictures of Luke and Nicola, or had seen them, it would be all over social media at this point. I mean, ALL OVER. So, what can we deduce from the fact that they aren’t?

That the pictures probably don’t exist. Don’t shoot the messenger! Seriously, watch where you point that thing!

But, let’s say pictures did exist. Who is the most likely person to dump them on, say, X? The hotel employee, the VIP guest, or the random stranger? I would place money on the random stranger, followed by the VIP guest. The hotel employee, who probably has the most access to VIP guests but the strongest legal barriers, would be the least likely to photo dump. What is the likelihood that someone from one of these three groups – for example, a random stranger – (a) had pictures of Luke and Nicola, (b) didn’t drop them on social media, and/or (c) didn’t share them with someone who dropped them on social media?

I’m all for a good conspiracy theory but I find this one to be a hard pill to swallow.

Maybe one person can act as a lockbox for this kind of secret, but when you start including more people, the ability to keep something (like illicit photographs of two celebrities) out of the public eye diminishes rapidly.

Remember what Benjamin Franklin said, “Three can keep a secret, if two of them are dead.”

Unfortunately, this quote is incredibly accurate. The general public cannot keep secrets.

If the pictures exist, they are most likely in the possession of Luke and/or Nicola’s team (of lawyers). So, unless they’re going to sneak them on to X for giggles (I mean, it’s been known to happen), you’re probably never going to see them – and that’s assuming they even exist.

However, if you’re the housekeeper from our first adventure and you happen to have some candid photographs you’re just dying to share, just find yourself a printer – one that cannot easily be linked back to you – and print them out. Then, “accidently” drop them at the feet of someone who knows exactly what they are, and then give them enough time to take their own photos of them and send them to their best friend’s brother’s sister-in-law’s third cousin’s wife’s neighbor, who could drop them on X for us. I mean, you should be golden with seven degrees of separation.

[yoongiseesawmp3]

own my mind - san (m)

summary: part of the idol series. idol!san x producer!reader. san hates you, you're sure of it, and the feeling is pretty mutual. are these feelings true, or does he just need to spend some time getting to know you?

word count: 10.6k

warnings: smut. afab reader. oral (f and m receiving) unprotected sex w pull out method, don't do that. recording during sex, don't do that either.

masterlist

"so the practice rooms are down this hall," your new boss explains as he shows you around kq, "and over here are the boys' studios, but your's will be this way..."

you're trying to take it all in and simultaneously remember where all of the confusing hallways lead. kq may not look like much on the outside, but within it's basically a maze. you keep nodding and smiling as you follow your boss around, politely greeting anybody you encounter. he ends by bringing you into a conference room to finalize some paperwork, and after that you're on your own. you're officially the newest producer at kq, and...you have no idea what to do next.

you step out of the conference room and try your hardest to remember which direction leads back to the studios, but you also need coffee. you remember where the kitchen is, so you head that way as you text your friend jen. she recommended you for this job, and she promised she'd say hi on your first day. she's one of the make up artists for ateez, so she's always around, but her schedule is a little more frantic than yours. you understand if she doesn't answer right away, so you send the text and forget about it. you take a moment to yourself in the company kitchen as you try to figure out the coffee machine, letting your thoughts wander.

are you really cut out for this? it's your first day and you already feel overwhelmed. do they expect you to just go into your studio and start producing? what kind of tracks do they have planned for the next album? will the current producers even let you touch anything important, or will you have to prove yourself first? you're thinking about all this and more when someone bursts into the kitchen with a screech.

"Y/N!!!" jen yells as she scoops you into a hug. "you're here! it's finally happening!"

"this isn't very professional," you laugh as you hug her back. "you're helping me make a bad first impression."

"not possible, i've been talking about how great you are for months," she smiles. "they're gonna love you, seriously. i can't wait to hear what you make."

"what if i suck though?" you ask, but jen shakes her head.

"don't do that. no negativity on your first day."

"whatever."

"so what are you doing first?" she asks, taking the coffee you just brewed and having a sip for herself.

"dude, that was mine," you cry, and she hands it back to you with a half assed apology. "um, what am i doing first...well, i got confused on my welcome tour, so i guess i'll wander around until i figure out where my studio is."

"oh i can show you," jen brushes you off. "it's not that confusing, you just need to walk it all a few times. lots of doors, but you'll get the hang of it."

"do you want to make your own coffee, or can you show me around right now?" you ask as you finish doctoring up your mug.

"i can just have another sip of yours," she says as she reaches for it, but you hold it just out of reach as someone else walks in.

"hey jen," hongjoong greets her, his eyes falling to you next. "are you y/n? i've been summoned to help you get started."

"thank god," you sigh in relief. "i wasn't sure what to do, so i appreciate it. it's nice to meet you, finally."

"likewise," he smiles. "i'm a big fan of your work."

"really?" you feel yourself blush. "thank you. you were one of the reasons i started producing, so that means a lot."

"really?" now it's hongjoong's turn to blush. "well, that's...nice."

"great," jen claps her hands, easing over the awkward silence. "you can show y/n her studio and the two of you can keep gushing about how great you both are." she turns to you and puts her hands on your shoulders, giving you a playful shake. "you're gonna do great things here. be nice to yourself. and uhhh, go team!"

"thanks jen," you laugh as you wave goodbye, following a respectable distance behind hongjoong. he looks back to make sure he hasn't lost you and motions for you to come closer.

"no need to be shy," he tells you. "we'll need to be pretty comfortable with each other considering how close we'll be working together."

"how often will i be working with you?"

"mmm, every day maybe?" he thinks about it. "in the beginning at least. you'll shadow me for a few days to see how the studios run, and then you'll sort of report to me with whatever you're working on. hopefully we won't get tired of each other."

"i don't think that'll be an issue," you assure him. you catch the tips of his ears turning red and you smile to yourself. "so, what makes a good producer here?"

you watch in admiration as hongjoong explains the creativity and collaboration that makes kq work so well, and you kick yourself for getting distracted again. you were supposed to be watching your surroundings, keeping an eye out for where to go to find your studio, but you can't help it. in this moment, it hits you: you get to make music with one of your favorite producers for one of your favorite artists. you must be dreaming, right?

if this is a dream, you're knocked out of it abruptly. while you were watching hongjoong, you weren't watching where you were going, and you walked right into the human equivalent of a brick wall. you spill your coffee everywhere, but don't worry, most of it lands on the most handsome man you've ever seen in your entire life. you're currently staring at choi san, singer of ateez and one of your new coworkers. he's looking down at you, a little bit of shock in his eyes, and you rush to correct the situation.

"oh, shit, i'm sorry," you apologize. you look to hongjoong for help and he's running off to find napkins, leaving you with a very buff man in a soaking wet white t shirt. "i am so so sorry, really, here, let me try to-"

"don't worry about it," san takes a step back. he starts to walk away, but you follow behind him.

"at least let me-"

"i said don't worry about it," he tries again, his tone calm but his eyes tell a different story. he's glaring down at you, which makes your blood boil. he has a right to be mad at you for spilling coffee on him, but why's he pissed at you for trying to help clean him up?

"sure, go drip coffee all down the hallway then," you grumble as you brush past him. "i'll tell hongjoong to follow the trail when he comes back with your napkins."

"fine," san sighs, stopping where he stands. he throws his hands up and asks, "happy?"

"sure."

"who are you anyway?" he mumbles to himself, looking you up and down. you feel his eyes linger, and it makes goosebumps rise over your skin. you take that as a further sign that this guy is getting on your nerves.

"i'm y/n, i'm the new producer," you answer. "nice to meet you."

"you spill coffee on all of your coworkers, y/n?" he asks, and you roll your eyes.

"i said i was sorry-"

"here's hongjoong," san cuts you off. he reaches out for the napkins and smiles at his bandmate. "thanks man."

"so you've met y/n," hongjoong chuckles, trying to ease the tension. "she's really great, we're lucky to have her on the team." san doesn't reply, just nods and sends you a tightlipped smile as he dabs at his ruined t shirt. the fabric is basically translucent now, showing san's tan skin below and the definition of every single muscle. hongjoong clocks the way your eyes are trailing over san's torso and he clears his throat. "um, should we continue our tour?"

"yeah, sorry," you gesture for him to lead the way, and you hold san's gaze as you walk away. he's a dick, you think. that'll be fun.

-

"so is san always an asshole?" you yell over the loud music to jen as you follow her to a table. she insisted on taking you out for drinks to celebrate your first day, and after the morning you had, you need this.

"is he what?!" she shouts back.

"an asshole!"

"san?" she looks at you bewildered. "he's a sweetheart!"

"are we talking about the same guy?"

"are we?" jen questions as she finally pulls you to a table in the back. it's a little quieter back here, so you don't have to shout, but the music will still drown out your conversation so no one can eavesdrop. once you're both settled, she takes a sip of her drink and then, "spill."

"nothing to spill, i just think san is mean and i hate him," you say simply. "i spilled coffee on him, totally an accident, but he was a huge dick about it. wouldn't let me help him, didn't really introduce himself...it all felt off."

"to be fair, i would've been pissed if you had spilled coffee on me when we met," jen points out.

"yeah, but you would've been nicer in the aftermath," you shake your head. "it's whatever. i hopefully won't have to work that closely with him."

"and what about hongjoong?" jen wiggles her eyebrows. "i hear you two hit it off."

"he's nice," you smile shyly. "made my first day a lot easier. he was really patient with all my questions, which helped ease my nerves."

"he's really good at that," jen nods. she goes into a story about her first meeting with hongjoong, and it makes you laugh and endears you to the man more. she tells you stories of the other members, none of whom you met today, but now you're excited to get to know them. "they're all really nice, especially san and yunho. i feel like they're the ones that always check up on everybody-"

"san?"

"yes, your mortal enemy," she rolls her eyes. "he's a good guy, i promise. you just need to make up for the coffee thing and i think you'll be on his good side."

"i'll think about that," you mumble, taking a sip of your drink that almost drains the glass. "so who's this guy you're seeing?"

"whoa, looks like you need another one!" jen deflects. she grabs your glass and runs off to the bar to get another round, leaving you to sit and stew on your own. if san was such a nice guy, why was he only rude to you? it sounds like he isn't mean to other newbies, so it can't be some kind of hazing. whatever dislike he holds for you is personal, and that's making you even angrier. when jen comes back with your new drink she says, "you look mad. what did i miss?"

"can you find out why san hates me?" you ask, and you swear jen would punch you if she could reach across the table.

"he doesn't hate you!! you just made a bad impression! stop making him a villain," she begs you. "man, you're so obsessed with him. maybe someone has a crush?"

"please," you scoff. "just because he has muscles doesn't make up for his shit personality."

"so you like his muscles," jen smirks. "tell him that tomorrow, it'll boost his ego."

"i'm not listening to you anymore."

"but i have so much knowledge to share!" she whines, and you let jen tell you all the do's and don'ts of working at kq as the night goes on. maybe you'll take her advice and try to patch things up with san in the morning. could be worth a shot, right?

-

the next day, you're in one of the bigger studios to help hongjoong with a vocal arrangement. since the last album did so well with the unit songs, you and hongjoong wanted to experiment a little further. you excitedly told hongjoong about your hopes to compose and produce a harmony heavy vocal track, and he was all for it. you worked on the music for it last night, bringing about half of the song to hongjoong for you to play around with today. you both agreed it'd be good to have a guide version ready before you share it with the entire vocal line, so seonghwa offered to help out, too. he's in the booth now as you and hongjoong instruct him from your seats behind the soundboard. he finishes the final layer for the first harmony, and you wait as hongjoong lines it all up. he plays the snippet for you and seonghwa, and you notice both boys are waiting for your reaction.

"that was great, seonghwa," you encourage him. "i really liked it, but..."

"don't be shy," hongjoong nudges you, "he can take it."

"i can," seonghwa agrees. "give it to me straight. did it suck?"

"no, it was really beautiful actually," you assure him. "but for the melody, could you make it more...monotone? that might sound weird, but we're trying to play with the high and low harmony like they're the angel and devil sitting on your shoulder, and for those to stand out the melody needs to be less...captivating."

"you hear that? she thinks your voice is captivating," hongjoong smiles to seonghwa, and he beams at you.

"i get that," he nods. "can i try it another way?"

you help hongjoong reset, and then seonghwa tries another layer in a sadder voice. it's just as powerful, but will be the perfect conduit for the story you're trying to tell. when he finishes, they look to you again and find you smiling proudly.

"that was it," you nod. "great job."

"thanks boss," seonghwa says as he steps out of the booth. "who do you want me to bring in next?"

"you can call san, we'll get him to do the high part and then-"

"san?" you look at hongjoong. "i thought seonghwa was doing the guide vocals."

"well, usually we could do with just one voice, but this song would work best with three distinct voices," hongjoong explains. "i don't think the guys would get it if it's harder to distinguish the different levels, you know?"

"right," you agree, just a little dejected.

"so..." seonghwa trails off. "should i go get him?"

"yeah, tell him to meet us here in ten," hongjoong tells him. seonghwa says his goodbyes and then hoongjoong turns to you. "you alright?"

"i'm good," you reply. "feel a little in over my head, but good."

"you're doing great," hongjoong says, placing his hand over yours on the desk. "it's a lot to jump into, and i'm sorry if it seemed like i was-"

"no, i needed the insight-"

"because i value your opinion-"

"i know that-"

"and-" hongjoong is cut off from finishing his thought because the studio door opens to reveal san. he's wearing another skin tight t shirt, black this time, so even if you spilled another coffee on him it would be harder to notice. he's paired it with a beanie and baggy black pants, and if what you're seeing is correct, he's not wearing any underwear. he stands there staring at you both before his eyes fall to your hand still beneath hongjoong's, and the two of you separate like you've just been shocked.

"i'm not interrupting anything, am i?" san asks suspiciously, and you viciously shake your head as hongjoong tells san to get into the booth. he explains the idea to san and queues up seonghwa's melody as san struggles to put the headphones on over his hat, so you lean into the mic and suggest, "try taking the hat off, maybe?"

"thanks, big help," he says sarcastically. he listens anyway, tossing his beanie away like he's mad at it. "so what am i doing? copying hwa?"

"no," you say sternly. "you're singing the high harmony. we'll layer it over seonghwa's vocals, but your voice needs to be distinct. you can practice if you want-"

"i don't need to practice," san cuts you off, staring daggers at you. "just play it." he keeps his eyes on you as he listens, and you feel nervous. he's listening to your song, your lyrics, and you think you see the slightest flicker of emotion in his eyes as seonghwa's voice fades. he doesn't comment on it, just continues staring at you and says, "yeah, got it. you can record this."

"let's listen to it first, and then record the next one," you tell hongjoong, and he nods in agreement. you watch san get ready, and then you hear the most beautiful falsetto flowing over your track. it makes you emotional, and it's another instance of the coolness of your job hitting you. you're so mesmerized you miss san finishing on a bit of a creative note, so the boys are staring, waiting for your input.

"y/n?" hongjoong calls your name. "what'd you think?"

"that was," you clear your throat, "that was perfect, san."

"great," he nods, taking the headphones off, but you stop him.

"ah, we need to record it," you remind him, and you catch his groan through the mic.

"i thought i said to record that one?"

"you don't decide that," you reply, and hongjoong tries to diffuse.

"she has a specific vision for the song, so we wanted to hear you first and then decide if there were any notes before we record you."

"what's the vision?" san asks you, and he listens intently as you explain. when you're done, he takes a deep breath and says clearly into the mic, "that sounds stupid. but i'll do it again. make sure you're recording this time."

"whatever you say, asshole," you mumble, angrily getting the track ready for his bratty voice. you wish you could stay mad at him, but as soon as he starts to sing you're enchanted. again, you get distracted by his voice, the emotion in it and all over his face as he sings, and you think, if he says your idea was stupid, why was he putting so much heart into just a guide vocal? he finishes and you thank him, saving the track quickly before you turn to hongjoong and inform him you need a water break. he's left in the studio with san as he saunters out, but hongjoong meets him at the door.

"what's your problem?" he barks, livid at the way san was treating you during that session.

"uh, you're blocking my exit?" he asks, but that was the wrong thing to say. hongjoong dives into a lecture about respect, and san has to laugh. "oh, you want me to respect the girl who spilled coffee all over me yesterday? who thinks, on her second day, she can tell me how to do my job?"

"she's a producer, her job is to literally tell you what to do-"

"well i'm sorry i hurt your girlfriend's feelings," san spits. "but i did what you asked me to do, so please let me leave." hongjoong steps to the side, still fuming, and san walks out. you catch him in the hall as you return, and you want to stop him, to tell him how great he sounded, but when you lift your hand in greeting he turns the other way and disappears.

-

you get a break from work later that day and find jen making a coffee. she sees you coming and has a cup ready for you to make your own, and you catch up on your days as your coffee brews. you tell her about san's lovely time with you in the studio, and jen listens, but when you finish she asks, "and he was still like this after you said you liked his muscles?"

"i'm not telling him that," you mumble.

"telling who what?" wooyoung asks as he pops around the corner.

"mind your business?" jen replies. "have you met y/n yet? she's the new producer."

"no, but i've heard mixed reviews," wooyoung says as he dramatically shakes your hand. "can't wait to decide which side i'm on."

"there's sides?" you ask nervously.

"yep," he says with a pop on the p. "hongjoong and seonghwa worship the ground you walk on. san hates your guts, although i'm not sure why. you seem lovely."

"she is lovely," jen points out.

"hm," wooyoung squints playfully. "guess we'll have to wait and see."

"what about innocent until proven guilty?" you ask. "just assume you'll like me and then you will!"

"yeah, but san is a good judge of character," wooyoung shakes his head. "if he doesn't like you, then he's got a reason."

"is the reason because he's maleficent?"

"oo, maleficent, i like that," wooyoung coos. he turns to jen and asks, "why don't you use big words like that?"

"i'm afraid you wouldn't get them," she sighs.

"try me, i'm full of surprises baby," he winks at her before smacking her ass and walking away. you watch in confusion, and she waves it off.

"don't worry, he does that sometimes."

"to everybody?!"

"just to me," she shrugs, and then it clicks.

"he's your fling," you smile. "very nice."

"nuh uh."

"no, he totally is. that's elmo," you piece it together. "is that his nickname because of his laugh?"

"you were never supposed to meet him," jen defends herself.

"so getting me a job here wouldn't interfere with that?"

"i figured i could keep it a secret," she pouts.

"you did! for a whopping 36 hours, good job!"

"don't patronize me," she complains. "i could call san and have him here in seconds-"

"oh man, i need to go record something," you frown, "maybe you two could talk though? figure out why he's got an all burning hatred for me, an angel?"

"i'll get to the bottom of it," jen says, and you realize the error you've just made.

"wait, no, don't talk to him, please," you beg.

"too late, you've asked for my help, so i'll help," jen concedes easily. "he'll either love you or simply tolerate you by the end of the week, i promise."

"great, thanks..."

-

you've made it through your first week, yippee! you really like it here, you fit in well with the members, and the producers seem to really like your ideas. the only problem is san. you enter a room that he's in and it goes quiet. he passes you in the hall, and you're fuming for the rest of the day. everyone knows about your little rivalry at this point, but no one understands where it came from. even jen, who was determined to make you and san best friends, has lost hope.

you're able to make it a couple days without any more san run ins, and for that you are grateful. you and hongjoong have made a lot of progress on the vocal line track, and he's invited you to a few writing sessions with mingi for the rap line track. you're feeling invincible after one of those sessions, walking back to your studio, when you get the scare of your life. you enter the code to your studio, guard completely down, and jump out of your skin when you see someone sitting at your desk.

"what the fuck?!" you shriek, using the door as a shield. you peek around it and see that it's not an intruder. well, at least not one that wants to hurt you. maybe. it's san, so this interaction could go in any direction.

"hello," he says simply. "nice way to greet your guest."

"how'd you get into my studio?" you ask as you close the door. you wonder if you should keep it cracked open, just in case you and san get into it and you need a witness that he probably started it.

"i needed to ask you a question," san responds instead, and you cock your head in confusion. "i can't do that?"

"i don't know, can you?"

"your song. the vocal one. how's it going?"

you're surprised this is what he wanted to talk about but, honestly, what else were you expecting? this is a normal work interaction, you think. you're just not used to having those with san. since san is sitting in your desk chair, you pull your stool over to the desk pathetically and perch on top of it as you shoot san a glare.

"can you move over? i need to get to my keyboard."

"aw, can't reach over my muscles?" san teases, and you feel your blood run cold.

"what?"

"my muscles? little birdie told me you liked them."

"what are you doing in my studio, san."

"i wanted to hear your song," he shrugs. you wait for him to move out of the way, but apparently that's not happening. you grumble as you lean over him and type, pulling the project file up on your screen. you check the volume before you hit play and look back to see san watching you intently. he's close, your arms brushing and his head only a few inches from yours. you hold his gaze for a second and then hit play, sitting back as you watch him listen. you can't read his expression as the song plays, but you don't care what he has to say. you love this song, and you think it's turning out great. whatever he has to say isn't important to you-

"wow," he whistles. "i get it now."

"get what?"

"why you're so pretentious about your work," san smirks as he side eyes you.

"is that supposed to be an insult?" you ask, trying to gauge his reaction.

"not really," he shakes his head.

"well it's not a compliment," you tell him.

"i'll work on that," he says as he stands. he puts his hands on your desk to support himself as he rises, and you swear to god, he's flexing his arms a ridiculous amount. nobody needs that much upper body strength just to get out of a rolley chair.

"hey!" you call as he walks away. "what the hell?"

"do you have to curse all the time?" san asks with look of distaste. "it's not very polite."

"nor are you."

"nice," he nods. "well, i'll be around-"

"no, wait, why'd you come in here?" you ask as you follow him out of your studio. "you just wanted to listen to the song?"

"yeah?" he shrugs, turning to face you in the hallway. he's standing so close you have to lean back to look at him properly, and you frown.

"i don't believe you."

"why not?" san smirks. "you wanted me in your studio for another reason?"

"no-"

"you're not the only one who likes to stare, doll," he says quietly, leaning down so his ears are just barely brushing your ear. he straightens back up before you can melt into a puddle on the floor, and then he smiles what might be his first genuine smile in your presence. "so maybe i didn't just come here for the song. but now i've heard it, and i know don't hate it, so i think we're done here."

and with that very confusing information, san walks away.

-

san is tired. he's been practicing for their seoul concert since the early hours of the morning, and he needs a break. it's almost an acceptable time to eat lunch, so he grabs his things and starts the short walk to his favorite convenience store. he likes this one because it's got a seating area in the back where he can eat, giving him some time to himself. it's secluded enough he doesn't have to worry about being bothered, but it has a good view of the street outside so he can people watch. it's the perfect spot for him to rest and enjoy his food, so he leaves the company with a pep in his step.

he grabs all of his favorites, moving on autopilot, and pays for them quickly. he takes everything back to his usual table and prepares his feast. now that he's stopped working, he feels the tiredness in his bones and realizes how hungry he actually was. when did he eat last? was it dinner? that was more than twelve hours ago, so maybe he can get away with eating another ramen before he goes...

san is considering whether or not he should get up and grab more food as he stares through the store window. there's people rushing to work, couples going to lunch, families wrangling kids. he watches with a smile as one family, a mother and father, try to handle what looks like a girl and two twins. that job is way harder than anything he's doing as an idol, he thinks. he watches fondly as they walk away, and when he turns back, his smile falls.

you and hongjoong are crossing the street, engaged in some conversation that's making you both laugh. you make a joke that sends a laugh crashing up from within hongjoong's chest, and san scoffs as he watches you stare in admiration. hongjoong rushes forward and opens the door to the convenience store for you, and san hears the end of your sentence as you enter.

"-didn't have to do that," san catches, and he hears hongjoong make a dismissive sound in response. "wow, there's a lot of food here."

"you see why we like this place so much," hongjoong responds. san can't see you, but your voices are getting closer. "there's something for everyone."

"there's so much, i don't know what to pick..." you trail off.

"get whatever you want," hongjoong says. "it's on me."

"what? no-"

"ah ah, no arguments. consider it a welcome gift."

"well thank you," san hears you squeak, and he can just imagine the way you must be blushing, looking at hongjoong so shyly, pretending to be coy-

"oh, hey san," hongjoong greets. you come to a stop behind him, bumping into his back, and san has to laugh. "didn't know you were here."

"didn't tell anyone i was leaving," san shrugs. he leans over, trying to catch your eye, and waves. "hi y/n."

"hi san."

"are you eating here?" san asks, and hongjoong shakes his head.

"ah, no, we were just taking a break," he replies. "i was going to buy us lunch and then we're gonna head back."

"got it," san nods, still looking at you. "carry on then."

"thanks for your permission," you mumble, holding onto the back of hongjoong's shirt as he turns you down another aisle. he starts looking for a snack he wants you try, but he can't see it. he looks up, eyes flitting around the store, and his face lights up.

"oh! it's over there! be right back!" he runs off, and you continue scanning the shelves. you're not that hungry, but you know you won't have time to leave again, so you need to get enough food for lunch and dinner probably. you're reading the ingredients on one of the prepackaged meals when you feel a presence behind you. turning, you see san looming above, and you jump.

"shit," you hiss. "wear a bell."

"need help pronouncing the big words?" he asks.

"yeah, come closer and let me show you."

"you having fun?" san sneers, and your confused expression makes him clarify, "with your boyfriend."

"what?"

"oh come on, letting him buy your lunch, holding onto him like that...you're eating it up, aren't you?"

"i don't know what you mean," you say as you step around san, but your face is red. he's getting to you.

"it's cute, really," he says, beating you to the end of the aisle. he puts his arm out, effectively blocking your way, and he continues staring down at you in that frustrating way of his. like he wants to swallow you whole. "how long do you think it'll last?"

"if you're asking about my patience i'm afraid that ship sailed a while ago," you try to fight back, but san just laughs.

"you're cute, you know? you try to be so tough, but it doesn't work. i see right through you."

"and what do you see?" you ask as you cross your arms. san bares his teeth, ready to quip back, but his eyes catch on something behind you. you look over your shoulder and see hongjoong holding up a bag, a confused look in his eyes.

"found the sweet potatoes," he says as he approaches. "what are you doing?"

"getting to know our coworker," san says nonchalantly, removing himself from your personal space. "i'll let you go. my food's getting cold."

"sure," hongjoong says skeptically, reaching for you. he tries to guide you away with his hand at your back, but you can feel san's eyes still on you. you turn and his hand politely falls away, but san's eyes follow you through the rest of the store. he gets an idea when you go back to the drink coolers, so san finishes his food quickly and heads to the front.

when you and hongjoong are finally ready to pay, you go to the register and hongjoong reaches for his wallet. the woman behind the counter shakes her head, showing a stack of bills to tell you it's been taken care of. you look around and find san halfway out the door, a wicked smile on his face. he waves at you teasingly before the door dings closed, and hongoong happily takes the food, babbling about how nice san is as you leave.

-

later that day, the boys are getting fitted for their tour outfits. each practice room has been converted into a walk in closet + vanity combo, so you peek your head in to see how it's going. jen spots you and waves you over to her station, and you duck through the racks of clothes to say hi to your friend. you're taken aback when you see who she's working on, but jen laughs and assures you it's ok.

"he won't bite, he's asleep," she says about the pouting san she's working on currently. "he was here all night, apparently. he knocked out before i could even say hi."

"are you sure he's asleep and not faking it?" you ask as you tentatively sit in the chair next to him. it's enough distance away that you're not concerned by the proximity, but you keep an eye on him as you talk. "maybe he doesn't want to talk."

"hey, san likes me, so i know he's not faking it," jen tells you. "he and i get along really well."

"congratulations," you mumble as you reach for a makeup brush to play with. "so how was your day?"

you and jen catch up as she works on san, periodically asking for your opinion on the look she's created for him. you know she's trying to get you to say something nice about him, to slip up and call him handsome or sexy, but you won't budge. all the compliments you give are very makeup forward, but she won't let up. she's also not being gentle in her application, so you really are afraid san is awake and listening. she's almost done with him when wooyoung walks up, greeting you happily.

"hey y/n!" he chirps. "nice to see you! you're in my seat."

"oh, my bad," you scramble to get up. you got comfortable, your feet propped on one of the giant makeup cases before you. jen puts a hand out to stop you, turning to wooyoung with a trying-to-be-stern look in her eyes.

"my friend and i are not done talking."

"well your boss told me to come over here and get my makeup done, so unless you want me to stand..." wooyoung trails off as jen finishes with san's face. she turns to him and nods.

"standing is fine," she says, quickly getting to work on wooyoung's base layer. "i'll work fast so you don't have to stand long."

"but then i don't get to bug you as long," wooyoung whines.

"life's cruel like that, huh?"

"come on, i know i'm your favorite part of this job," wooyoung teases, and you share a silent laugh with him as jen blushes profusely. once wooyoung catches your eye, his attention turns to you, and he asks, "what about you, y/n? now that you've been here a few days, what's your favorite part of this job?"

"san's abs," jen answers for you, and you try your best to kick her. you accidentally nudge san's chair and freeze, but he doesn't stir.

"oh yeah? let's tell him-"

"no!" you shout, and if he wasn't awake now he definitely is. he still doesn't move, but you continue in a softer voice, "um, no. don't do that. uhh, my favorite part of the job...i don't wanna be a kiss ass, but it's probably working with hongjoong."

"of course it is," san mumbles, and even though he spoke quietly it makes you jump. he opens his eyes and your skin sets fire as soon as he looks at you. "you're in wooyoung's chair."

"he's having jen time," you counter. "let him enjoy it."

"yeah, let me enjoy it!" wooyoung agrees.

"san, what do you think of the eye makeup i did? tried something new," jen says as she focuses on wooyoung's eyes now. san sits up and looks in the mirror, but he's not looking at himself. he's watching you pretend like a strand on your sweater is the most interesting thing in the world, so he decides to call your attention.

"y/n? what do you think?" san asks, and you meet his gaze through the mirror. you're shocked to realize he's checking you out, blatantly, your cardigan falling off your shoulder to reveal your bra underneath. you were in a rush this morning and thought that would be enough. surely no one would notice you weren't wearing a tank, since this bra could pass as long as your sweater stayed up. but right now it's not, so san can see an entire cup, and he's almost drooling. instead of answering his question you look over at jen and repeat your earlier compliments as you pull your sweater tight around your torso.

"yeah, it looks good," you say again. "now that he's awake and you can see his eyes, you did a good job, uh, highlighting them."

"eloquent," san chides, and this time you intentionally kick his chair. he grabs your ankle before you can pull back, and tugs, bringing you closer.

"big word," wooyoung whispers, and you can hear jen smack him as you lift your eyes to san's. he's looking at you with that hungry gaze you're coming to get used to, and he rewords his question.

"what do you like about it specifically?" he tries as he leans in, and you hold your breath as you stare. this is closer than you've ever been, and you can smell hints of cologne that have your head spinning. alarms are going off in your head to run, but with san's hand still on your leg, you're trapped.

"you drool in your sleep, you know that?" you decide to say, ignoring his question completely. he's surprised enough that his grip on you loosens and you're able to bolt from the chair, grabbing your things as you say a quick goodbye to jen and wooyoung. they're watching on, amused with your little show, and when you're fully out of the room san collapses back into the chair with a groan.

"she's right," jen says. "i had to get napkins to mop up your spit."

"sorry," san grumbles.

"when are you gonna tell her?" wooyoung asks, and san makes a confused sound to encourage him to explain. "y/n. when are you gonna say that you're into her?"

"i'm not into her," san rolls his eyes.

"yeah, right," wooyoung laughs. "and me and jen aren't fucking."

"hey!" and another smack. they continue bickering as san stares at his reflection in the mirror, his eyes falling to the chair you just occupied.

-

the next few days, you spend a lot of time in your studio. too much maybe, but you need to get this vocal track finished. all the boys have recorded their parts, and now it's down to you to get the final mix to the other producers by monday. it's friday now, and you know you can't pull any all nighters this weekend - the boys want you to come to their shows, so you'd like to be finished with the track before you leave today.

it's weird, being here so late at night. you think you're the last one left, hongjoong left with the rest of the members and the producers started trickling out about two hours ago. you don't mind being here on your own, you know the security is fine, but it's still eerie. when you got another coffee just now, you caught yourself jumping at the slightest sounds. you could've sworn you heard footsteps following you, but after investigating you realized it was the sound of your own that scared you. you hunker down for another spell in your studio, and you get a lot closer to the product you want. hongjoong kept telling you it didn't need to be perfect, it still had to go through critiques so it would probably change a lot, but you can't let your first project here be a mess. it at least needs to meet your standards, so you keep working.

you're not sure how much later it is, but you wake yourself when your head falls off your propped up arm. you fell asleep listening to the final track, wanting to check for any mistakes, so you don't know how long it's been looping while you slept. you listen through one last time, almost satisfied, but you hear something that sounds off. you try another listen, and realize it's not coming from your speakers, it's coming from somewhere else.

heart racing, you press your ear to the door of your studio and curse the sound proofing. you can make out a noise, but not enough to figure out what it is from the safety of this room. you look around for a weapon, something to protect you, and all you see are stray wires. you find one long enough and wrap it around your fists, pulling the wire taught between them. worst case scenario you garrote the intruder and then call for help, but you're being dramatic. whatever is out there can't be a threat, can it?

you open your studio door and follow the sound. in your tired state, you recognize a song, but you can't place it or where it's coming from. you tiptoe down the hall toward the practice rooms, and spy light coming from a door at the end of the hall. so it must be one of the members, you think. or maybe the bb trippin guys came early to prep for the show. whatever it is, you keep walking, aware now that the song you heard is wake up, one of your favorites. the boys were cryptic about the setlist, wanting it to be a surprise for you this weekend, but you get excited at the thought of what kind of mystical performance they could do for this song. when you reach the door, you stop cold, seeing maybe the last person you expected it to be.

san is dancing, quite sexually, to the music bumping through the speakers. he's in baggy sweats and a tank top that shows off his figure and his ridiculously chiseled muscles, and you can't help it. you stare, watching in awe as he drops it low and grinds around to a song you never expected to be portrayed like this. as he's on the ground, a tie hanging from his teeth, his eyes flick to yours through the mirror. you gasp, and he smirks, somehow able to catch the sound of your breath hitching over the loud music. he feels proud of himself, knowing he's got you so shocked, but when he finishes the portion he's working on, he looks to the mirror and you're gone.

you're rushing down the hall back to your studio. what the fuck was that. you had a physical reaction to san, and not a good one. and he saw you! that's humiliating, you'll never be able to look at him again-

"where ya goin doll?" his deep voice asks. he's right behind you, and before you can sprint off to your studio, he grabs your shoulders and pushes you against the nearest door. when you come face to face, he's breathing heavy, and you assume that's because of the intense choreography he just worked through. little do you know, being this close to you, smelling that annoying perfume that follows you around, touching you, all of this is taking his breath away. his hands trail down your shoulders to your hands, and he looks at you quizzically when he finds the wire wrapped tightly in your fists. "what's this?"

"i, uh, i thought i was the only one here? so when i heard something i looked for uh. i wanted something to protect myself with," you explain, embarrassed by how dramatic that sounds.

"you're a badass," san chuckles, lifting your hands by the wire hanging between them.

"i thought cursing wasn't polite," you remind him of his own words, and he laughs again.

"i just said that to piss you off."

"you're insufferable," you groan, trying to twist away from the man in front of you.

"and you're in a bit of a pickle, aren't you?" he smiles at you evilly. "can't get away, little kitten?"

"let go of me, san," you say steadily, but he just keeps smiling.

"why would i? i've finally got you right where i want you."

"what?" you breathe out.

"you couldn't tell? i've wanted you since i laid eyes on you."

"wanted me?" you scoff. "i'm not a steak."

"but you went and spilled that coffee on me, and then you were so delightful during our recording session, i just kept falling harder and harder for you," he teases.

"you're shit at showing how you feel."

"and you're shit at hiding how you feel," he smirks. "i know you want me, doll. that's why i acted the way i did. it was fun messing with you, letting you think i hated you. wanted to see how far i could push it."

"that's so middle school of you san," you complain, pushing your finger into his chest. "if you were a real man you would've done something about this already instead of playing a bunch of games."

"if i was a real man?" he chuckles lowly, and he's so close you feel it in your stomach. "baby, you haven't been with a real man til you've been with me."

"prove it," you whisper, but your breath gets caught as san pulls your hands above your head by the wire still wrapped around them. he holds your wrists in place as his other hand squeezes your waist, and he watches you squirm with glee in his eyes.

"prove it? you sure you can handle me doll?"

"do your your worst," you smirk, and then he's crashing his lips to yours. the kiss is fierce, all teeth and tongue, and you gasp as his hand travels up your waist and beneath your shirt. he traces the skin beneath your hoodie, smirking into your lips when he discovers you're not wearing a bra.

"i like it when you make things easy for me," he breathes out against your neck, his lips making their way across your skin and leaving little marks as he pleases. his hand beneath your shirt traces beneath each breast before leaving a featherlight trail to your nipple, and he surprises you with a quick pinch. you gasp again, giving him a chance to return his lips to your mouth and press his tongue past your lips. he kisses you one last time before pulling from your lips, asking, "should we take this inside?"

"wha?" you murmur, twisting to look at the door behind you. "but, san, this isn't my studio-"

"i know, it's hongjoong's," he says as he punches the code in. "he won't mind."

"i do!" you squeak out as san opens the door and pushes you inside. "san, seriously, we're not having sex in here!"

"we're having sex?" san teases, and you use your newly released hands to beat against his chest. "take that stupid wire off, baby. you're gonna need your hands."

"for what?" you grumble, listening to him anyway. when your hands are free, you notice the little indents left from the wire, and san surprises you by taking your hands into his softly. his thumb rubs over the raw skin, and he stares darkly at you as he lifts your hands to his lips. he kisses over the sore spots and up your wrists, whining cutely when he hits the fabric of your shirt.

"take this off," he tugs on your sleeve, and you shake your head.

"only if you take your shirt off too," you counter, and he easily lets go of you to remove his tank top. you hate the way you're staring, but you can't help it. he's beautiful, and you're mesmerized. he calls your name, the first time he's said it all night, and you find his eyes staring at you softly. "right, sorry," you mumble, pulling your hoodie off, not so accidentally catching it on your tits so they release with a bounce. san groans as he watches on, and then his hands are on you again, cupping your tits and teasing your nipples. you moan softly, reaching for his head to pull him into another kiss. your hands wrap around to his neck, one sweeping down to feel his soft, sweaty skin. you trace over the muscles in his chest, the lines of his abs, and end at his waistband. his hand reaches down to stop you before you can continue, and he pulls back to ask, "do you trust me?"

"do i trust you? not completely," you answer honestly. "maybe you don't hate me as much as you made me believe, but i still think you're despicable."

"if i'm so despicable why are you letting me use you like a toy?" he jokes, pushing you down into hongjoong's desk chair. "if you trust me, i want you to do something for me. if you don't, tell me to shut up, and we'll go back to having sex. but it'll be more boring that way."

"can i get that in writing, you saying that sex with you is boring?" you tease, and san growls as he captures your lips in another kiss. he's caging you in, and when he releases your lips, he leans his forehead against yours as he speaks.

"start a new file on his computer," san says lowly. "and hit record when i say."

"you're kidding."

"like i said, do it if you trust me," he shrugs, his hands moving from the armrests to your waist. he starts tugging your pants down as he continues. "if you don't trust me, then we just fuck like normal and go on with our lives."

"san, i-"

"are you gonna make the file?" he asks, kneeling in front of you. you open and close your mouth like a fish, but then you're moving without thinking. you twist in his hold, punching in hongjoong's password and finding the mixing app. you start a new project, label it inconspicuously, and then settle back in the chair. san is looking at you proudly, and he praises you, "good girl."

"what now?" you ask quietly, and san separates your legs further. he starts kissing up your leg, starting at your knee, and when he gets to your panties, he whispers, "i make you come."

he pulls yours panties down then, hissing as he watches your arousal cling to the fabric, and he smiles. "oh, she's pretty."

"i didn't know you were capable of giving me a compliment," you quip, and san bites your thigh to shut you up.

"wasn't talking to you," he says against your skin, leaving kisses along the inside of your thigh until he reaches your core. he brings his hands up to spread you open for him, and he stares in admiration at how wet you are, just for him. he leans in and you wait to feel his lips, his tongue, something, but instead you feel something wet land on your clit. san spit on your pussy, and he brings his hand up to rub the sensitive spot as he blows on your entrance.

"i thought you said you were gonna make me come," you whine, and he nods.

"i will. when i want to."

"san-" you whimper, lifting your hips as he continues playing with your clit and neglecting the rest of you.

"you want more doll?" he asks, his eyes staring at you darkly. you look down at him and nod, but he pinches your thigh in response. "words, baby."

"want more, san," you groan. "need your tongue."

"hit record and i'll give you what you want," he smirks below you, and you're so horny you can't even think about fighting back. you turn around and press record, san's lips finding your clit immediately. he licks over the bundle of nerves, prodding a finger at your entrance as he listens to your sweet moans. he fucks his finger into you once, twice, then adds another. you whine above him, your hands catching on his hair as you try to push him closer. he licks up every drop of you, fucking you on his fingers, and moans into your pussy for good measure. the vibration seends you reeling, and you whisper out, "fuck, san."

"who?"

"san, fuck! feels so good."

"yeah? you wanna come?" he asks, leaning his head on your thigh as he stares at you writhing above him. you're watching him with hooded eyes as he adds another finger, fucking you open for him. you lift your hips again, trying to make him move faster. "d'you still hate me, doll?"

"no," you whisper shyly, and he smiles.

"say it louder."

"i don't hate you," you moan out, his fingers scissoring you open as his lips return to your clit. he sucks harshly, and you let out a whine that turns into a frustrated scream. "faster."

"hm?"

"faster, please," you beg, "please, please, fuck. 'm gonna come."

"let me hear you, baby," he mumbles into your core. "who's making you feel so good?"

"san, you, fuck-" your voice tapers off as you hold your breath and crash into your release. you're clenching around san so deliciously, he groans into your clit and does his best to help you ride out your high. you're trying to catch your breath as. san cleans you up, slurping obscenely, and in your post-nut clarity you realize what you've done. you turn around, frantically trying to stop the recording, but san stands above you and catches your hands again.

"what are you doing?" he growls, and you blubber out a response.

"he can't, we can't, i have to delete it, i'm not-"

"not what? not enjoying yourself?" san asks. "because i'm looking at a dripping pussy that tells a different story."

"we need to go somewhere else," you hiss, and san shakes his head.

"i think we're doing fine right here," he smirks, kissing you deeply so you can taste yourself on his tongue. you bite his bottom lip as he tries to pull away, and he groans.

"is it my turn now?" you ask, and you watch fire spark across san's eyes.

"your turn to what, baby?"

"drive you insane?" you ask innocently, pushing san away so you can stand. you keep pushing him until he hits the wall, and you drop to your knees. you waste no time pulling his pants down, revealing his lack of underwear. you look up at him and ask, "you makin things easy for me, babe?"

"no," he smirks down at you. "bet you can't even fit it in your mouth."

"you're full of yourself," you point out as you spit into your hand. you bring it to his cock, stroking over his soft skin. "you liked eating me out this much?"

"it wasn't bad," san nods. "wouldn't mind doing it again."

"maybe later," you mumble, bringing his tip to your lips. you spit again, watching as it dribbles down his shaft, you stroke him a few more times, flicking your tongue over his tip teasingly. he's trying so hard not to lose it above you, and the way he's biting his lip to keep quiet pisses you off. without warning, you swallow him whole, his tip hitting the back of your throat as you try to fit him all in your mouth. he cries out above you, his hands tangling in your hair. he pulls you off of him completely, gasping for breath above you. "hey. i wasn't done."

"not gonna last," he says shyly, and you feel your ego grow ten sizes. "need to fuck you."

"eh, i'm getting tired-"

"shut up," he growls, pulling you up by your hair and slamming his lips into yours again. "go bend over his desk."

"you're sick," you tell him, obeying anyway.

"you're into it," san says cockily, adjusting your hips as he comes up behind you. "make sure you're right up to the mic, doll. wanna hear this." you hate yourself for it, but you find the mic in front of you and pull it closer. you feel his hands on your ass, pulling you apart as he stares at your pussy again. "so pretty for me," he sighs, removing a hand to bring his cock to your entrance. he teases your hole a few times, laughing when you jerk back and try to catch his tip. "impatient girl."

"just fuck me," you say clearly, and he responds by giving you exactly what you want. he thrusts into you, splitting you open, and you moan so loud it's embarrassing. san stays still, giving you a minute to adjust, but you start fucking back into him, and he gets the hint. he grabs onto your ass again, and then he's fucking into with no control. your mouth hangs open as he fucks you hard and fast, and san frowns. he smacks your ass and feels you clench around him as he barks, "lemme hear you." so you moan, and whine, and altogether let go. you're a babbling mess, mumbling incoherently about how good it feels, how he fucks you just right, how his cock is perfect, you can't stop. san is eating it up, fucking into you so deep you can feel him in your gut.

too soon, he's pulling out, and you let out a pathetic cry. san pulls you up by your hips, his hands smoothing over your skin, as he explains, "wanna watch you when you come." he helps you sit on hongjoong's desk, lifting your legs up so you're completely exposed to him. he holds your thighs open and tries to fuck back into you, but you have to help him, taking his wet cock and guiding it back to your entrance. he thrusts into you, slotting his hips against yours, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. he should've fucked you like this the whole time, he thinks, because he can't stop staring. you look so perfect, so blissed out, and it spurs him on. he holds one thigh down as his other hand wraps around your waist, holding you in place as he fucks you.

"i'm gonna come, baby," he warns. "where do you want it?"

"my stomach," you gasp out. "wanna see it."

"fuck, you're insane."

"don't slow down," you whine, holding onto san's broad shoulders like your life depends on it. you let him fuck you senseless, clenching around him as you get closer. he brings his hand around to rub his thumb over your clit, and you jerk away in sensitivity. "can't take it, san, gonna come-"

"then come for me," he begs. "need you to come first."

"fuck, san, fuck," you gasp, digging into his shoulders as you hold him in place. you clench around him until he can't take it anymore, and he pulls out, his forehead against yours as you watch him stroke himself. he comes quickly, painting your skin, and you moan breathlessly as you watch him empty himself over you. "fuck, that's hot."

"we should do that again," san smirks at you, and you playfully push against his chest. you leave your hands on him as you respond, "not now. i'm exhausted."

"how long have you been here?" san asks, sudden concern in his voice.

"too long," you sigh, noticing how raw your throat feels. you cough, your back bumping into the mic behind you. "oh shit. i need to turn this off." you look at san as you crouch down, saving the file and sending it to yourself. "what the hell am i supposed to do with this?"

"listen to it when you get lonely?" san jokes, and you push him. "use it in a song, maybe?"

"that would get me fired," you inform him, making sure you've deleted all traces of it from hongjoong's computer. satisfied, you turn to san and cross your arms over your chest. "was this your plan all along? you get me to record a salacious audio and then blackmail me with it?"

"you still think i hate you?" he asks, brushing your hair behind your ear. "bummer. thought we'd moved past that after your first orgasm."

"i'm just saying, if this was an elaborate plan to get me to leave, i commend the effort-"

"y/n," he says softly, and you meet his eyes. they're serious for once, which is odd. "i don't hate you, and i don't want to get you fired."

"good to know," you squeak. his gaze is too intense for you, so you start looking for your clothes and then remember the mess on your stomach. "oh, yuck-"

"here, let me clean you up," san says, searching for tissues. he holds onto you carefully as he wipes up his release, pulling a few extra tissues to clean the mess between your legs.

"see, if you'd just let me help you like this on my first day, we wouldn't have been mortal enemies for so long," you joke.

"yeah, but we wouldn't have fucked like that if i had been nice to you from the start."

"so what now?" you ask as you get dressed. "you said you wanna do that again?"

"don't you?" san asks, his pants halfway up his legs. you unashamedly stare at his cock before you respond, but he's got his answer.

"i mean, if you want-"

"i do," he interjects. "whenever you want me. i'll be there."

"is this what everyone means, when they say you're so nice?" you ask genuinely. san comes over to you, wrapping his hands around your waist before he kisses you.

"guess you'll have to find out, huh?"

[inheritedbelly]

The weight of betrayal

"I'm sorry," I said, after accidentally turning all my weight onto my boyfriend while trying to get comfortable at night. My name is Tommy; I’m 22 years old… or rather, I used to be. I met my boyfriend on a dating site two years ago. When he told me he had magical abilities, I didn’t believe him. Until he proved it, right in front of me, making objects appear or change shape. After a few months of dating, I made a mistake and ended up cheating on Matt at a party. I didn’t intend to tell him, but… he’s magical, and he found out on his own. There was no way around it: he threw everything in my face, and I had no choice but to humiliate myself, begging for forgiveness. After all, I loved him. I made just one slip-up, which, in the end, came with a very high price.

"I used to be a good-looking, fit twink, everyone would stare at me, and I couldn’t help it that I was so drunk that night. Well, maybe a little bit of guilt," I thought.

“Well,” he said, “I can’t believe you had the nerve to do this to me. I don’t know if I can trust you again, but… I can make the most of this.” He grabbed one of his books and pointed his finger at me. I knew nothing good would come from this. “I’ll make sure you never betray me again. And since I like older, bigger guys… I’ll make the most of this.”

The result of this "game" is that today, here I am – a man in his 50s or 60s, old and fat. I never imagined I could be this big. Being old felt strange. I preferred lying down all day, and no one looked at me like they used to. I had no choice; Matt had said countless times that he would never undo the spell, no matter how much I insisted. All I could do was accept this new life as an old man. My back hurts, and I still haven’t gotten used to this huge belly. Being fat is a complicated experience – I sweat from the smallest effort and, all the time, I’m hungry. My deeper voice and advanced baldness give away my age.

But, when I think about it, not everything is as bad as it seems. After all, I love Matt, and someone like me – now old and fat – would hardly have another chance at a relationship. And, to my surprise, Matt seems to like it. In the afternoon, we sit on the couch, while he feeds me and strokes my belly, which has become a kind of giant cushion. At night, when we go to bed, he buries his face in my sagging chest, and at least now I fall asleep much faster than before, even though I snore loudly like a sleeping elephant. Everything feels much more affectionate than before, even though everyone thinks I'm Matt’s grandfather, not his boyfriend. And apparently, no one looks at me anymore. In fact, his exclusivity plan seems to have worked.

Although I want my old life back, I can’t deny that some things have improved, at least for Matt. He assured me that my life hasn’t been shortened – I’ll just keep this form until he also becomes an old, fat man like me. So, I guess it’s better to get used to this new appearance. After all, I kind of deserved what happened. I just wish my back didn’t hurt so much from having to carry this huge belly around…

[nightdiary]

first dates with enhypen

word count: 5.4k genre: fluff, gender neutral reader, suggestive bits in jake's and hoon's but nothing too crazy imo author's note: been wanting to write more for enha so this was born... i am down bad for all of them i fear ): also it was almost too easy to get carried away in some spots but i didn't! i'm thinking of making more specific and individual bf posts for each of the members... saving my juicier ideas for then 🤍 as always, feedback is appreciated greatly<3!!!

✧ heeseung - tinder date

you have a routine with all of your tinder dates. after three months on the app, you’d learned how to cycle through the guys quick enough so as not to waste a minute on someone who you didn’t see fitting into your life.

there are three stages to the cycle: one, they had to pass the initial profile check. simple enough, and yet most failed right at the beginning. half-naked photo holding a fish? swipe left. in a douche-baggy frat you’d never heard of? swipe left. 27, not sure what he’s looking for, and republican? hard swipe left.

the second and third stages took the longest, but that’s when the disappointment came in. after a few days of texting, the inevitable message about meeting in person would come. if the guy seemed normal enough, you’d agree, and finally meet. you’d build up the moment in your head and pick out a cute outfit and dance excitedly in your room beforehand, going through the possible conversation starters you could use if it got awkward.

you’d sit through a date with them and wait to be asked questions, wait for them to express some sort of interest in you as a person, but it would never come. instead, you would sit and listen to them harp about themselves for hours. every time, without fail, it was almost as if they didn’t care enough that you were there.

then, they’d presumptuously ask if you wanted to come home with them and, well, your decision couldn’t be clearer.

as much as you hated generalizing, the men from your tinder dates were proving to be pretty shit. they looked good on paper, but when it came down to dating you, they fucking sucked. and you were beginning to lose hope.

you’d sworn that you would take on one last date before deleting the forsaken app. lee heeseung is everything you’re looking for in a man, and you think it’s a wonder he matched with you instantly. the texts you exchange pass your perception of normal, and before you know it, he’s proposing you meet up at a japanese restaurant downtown.

you find yourself sitting across from a man you think god sent as an apology for all of the other 4 billion and some men.

“you are suspiciously perfect,” you frown, squinting at your date across the table. “like it’s weirding me out. what is wrong with you, lee heeseung?”

“quite a lot actually,” he jokes, “but my mom says i’m a good boy. i’d trust her, if i were you.”

snorting, you reach to snatch the last dumpling with your chopsticks. heeseung’s grab the dumpling before yours do, but he’s quick to place it onto your plate and tell you he’ll order more. as he politely calls the waitress over and thanks her when she brings over a new plate of dumplings, you can’t help but think you’re fucked. either your standards are low, or heeseung is just one remarkable man.

but as the afternoon progresses, you begin to lean towards the latter. heeseung takes a genuine interest in your hobbies and work, asking you thought-provoking and personal questions that don’t toe the line of being intrusive and passive-aggressive. you realize that this is the first date you’ve been on where you’ve talked so much, and it feels so weird to not spend the entirety of your date looking forward to going home.

“i think i’ve found out what’s wrong with you,” you tell him once both of you are standing outside of the restaurant. heeseung had paid for the bill no questions asked, and when you’d gotten up to shrug your coat on, you realized with a start that the sky outside was pitch black.

as heeseung hums unassumingly and fixes you with a questioning look, you grin and say, “you hate mint chocolate. you’re a walking red flag, lee heeseung.”

your date bursts out into laughter and shakes his head. the wide smile stays on his face as he offers his arm to you, bringing you close to his side when you take it. “fine, you’ve got me there. can i at least walk you to your bus stop before you block me?”

you pretend to think about it, tapping your chin with your forefinger, before sighing and agreeing with a matching smile. your walk to the stop takes you through a busy central street that’s alive in the early evening, and you can’t help but press yourself closer to heeseung. he steers the two of you through the crowds with relative ease, and you somehow manage not to bump into anyone for the entirety of the walk, all thanks to him.

as you sit on the bench together and wait for your bus to show up, you use the cold as an excuse to huddle up to heeseung’s side. he laughs again, a lilting noise that tugs at your heartstrings, and you quickly realize you’ve gotten yourself in far too deep from the first date.

you have to move off his shoulder when he begins taking his jacket off. confused, you watch as he drapes the material over your back and urges you to slip your arms in through the sleeves so he can zip it up. you notice your bus rolling up to the curb and panic, turning to heeseung with a frown.

“don’t worry about it,” he reassures you. kissing your cheek sweetly, he helps you get up and walks you toward the bus door. “you have to walk home from the bus, i don’t want you getting cold. just give it to me on our next date, yeah?”

stunned, you nod shyly and step into the bus. as you scan your card and take a seat next to the window, you peer outside and grin when you find heeseung waiting to wave goodbye. he’s a bit blurry because the glass has fogged up from the heat, but you can make out the way his face softens when you trace a heart into the window.

with the promise of a second date and heeseung’s cozy coat on your shoulders, you begin making your way home, feeling oddly warm and thrilled beyond belief.

maybe tinder had finally worked out in your favor. you’d make sure to leave a 5 star review when you got home.

✧ jay - rollerskating rink

for what it’s worth, you weren’t the one that chose the location for your first date.

you’d left the decision up to jay, who, in all of his dependable glory, seemed to have chosen the worst possible location– at least for him.

“jay?” you call to the panting boy behind you. “are you sure you’re okay? we can always go sit down for a bit and come back later.”

your date shakes his head adamantly and pushes himself forward using the railing, scrunching his eyes shut like he’s anticipating another fall. he looks awfully adorable in the hot pink skates that the rink had lent him, even if he’s faring worse than a newborn deer with them on. the juxtaposition of his carefully crafted and sophisticated outfit with the cartoonish design of the skates is oddly endearing to you.

“wow, i really thought this looked harder than it actually was,” jay pauses by the railing, leaning down to rub at his ankle with a pained expression. “these skates are beating my ass.”

“why’d you choose this place if you’ve never been rollerskating before?” you can’t help but ask.

“okay, don’t laugh,” jay warns, avoiding your curious eyes. his cheeks are all red as he continues to massage his ankle, and you doubt it’s entirely because he’s exhausted from skating. “your best friend told me you like to come here a lot, but that you never have someone to go with. figured i’d be that person for you, even if i suck a lot.”

the thought of jay willingly sacrificing his comfort and the wellbeing of his ankles for you makes you feel warm all over. you help him stand up and regain his balance without relying on the rail, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his cheek as encouragement. poor unsuspecting jay crumbles down immediately after, clutching onto the rail for support. you can’t help but laugh, though it isn’t unkind.

“just know i appreciate all of your sacrifices,” you tell him. offering your hand, you pull him up and continue to hold on to him as you lightly push backwards with your skates. “we can go slow, i’ll teach you some basic moves to get you moving around on your own.”

jay gulps but nods nonetheless, staggering forward after you. it’s relatively easy to keep him upright when you’re going at such a slow pace, his soft hands encased between the firm fingers of your own. you throw a look over your shoulder every now and then to make sure you don’t run into anyone, but the rink’s empty enough at this hour that you have enough space to move about freely with jay attached to you.

“bend your knees a little– yeah, that’s good, now glide forward one foot at a time, lean into your strides a bit,” you instruct, gaze focused on your date’s wobbly legs. the tight fitting jeans he’d worn are admittedly hot, but you feel a bit guilty thinking about jay’s thighs while he’s trying not to break the bones in them.

as soon as jay gets the basic motions down, you switch to skating side by side with him, your linked hands suspended between the two of you. he’s still slow and careful with his movements, but you can tell he’s fallen into a rhythm that works for him. you don’t mind having to inch your way across the rink with him. if anything, it’s nice having him by your side.

“i think this was just a big ploy to get me to hold your hand,” you tease.

jay flushes and, very tellingly, doesn’t say a word.

snickering, you begin to swing your hands between your bodies. jay’s hand is big and warm, and you don’t want to let go soon. “you should know i would’ve held your hand anyway. next time, let’s hold hands at a place that won’t break your tailbone.”

✧ jake - bowling

“you know what they say about men and bowling?” 

“no, jake,” you deadpan. you knew exactly where this was going, and yet you still decide to give jake the satisfaction. something about being a good date, even if jake has always been a friend you’d teased first and foremost. “what do they say?”

“they’re either good in bed or at bowling,” jake steps back from the lane and looks over his shoulder to wink at you. his arm swings back an exaggerated amount as he walks toward the foul line, sending the ball rolling onto the wood with zero coordination. it immediately goes towards the gutter. “these are mutually exclusive, scientifically proven.”

but in all of jake’s infinite luck, the ball veers towards the middle at the very last minute, hitting the front-most pin and knocking down the rest in succession. above you, the screen plays a cute animation of bowling pins running away from the ball, only to be smothered with a large neon text spelling out STRIKE! in bold letters.

“oh this is so bad for you,” you bite back the urge to laugh. jake’s mortified face turns towards you and you almost lose it at the sight of his heartbroken expression. “you’ve got another turn, by the way. let’s see if you can get a double, babe.”

jake’s next ball ends up in the gutter and he cheers loudly, earning him very confused looks from the kids in the lane next to you. one of them offers their dinosaur bowling ramp to help jake out, but he kindly turns them down and tells them he’s trying to let you win.

unfortunately for the both of you, you don’t hold up too great score-wise either. even with your one lucky spare and otherwise average abilities, jake ends up winning by 20 whole points, a feat he doesn’t seem too keen on celebrating. the light in your lane turns off after the round is over, and jake proposes you two get some well-deserved food.

“do you think this is a lame date?” he asks you once you’ve sat down at one of the plastic benches. you instantly frown at the question and reach out to spear a handful of fries with your fragile plastic fork.

“don’t worry, i think it’s sexy when men are good at sports,” you reassure him, “also it’s cute that you wanted to let me win. and that you bought me loaded fries with extra cheese. it’s super romantic.”

jake snorts, but you notice how his shoulders visibly relax at your words. navigating your friendship-turned-something-bigger was harder than you’d anticipated it would be, and acknowledging your reciprocated feelings was proving to be the easiest part.

you knew that jake was equally on edge about fucking this whole thing up. there was a lot more at stake here than with someone you hadn’t known for years prior. you were afraid of diving headfirst into something that could potentially rip away an important part of you, afraid that one wrong move would send jake tumbling out of your life. you had cherished him long before you had realized you loved him differently.

but as you watch jake chew through a forkful of fries, you realize that there’s nothing complicated about this. things have always been simple with him, and they’ll continue to be no matter if you’re dating or not.

“cmon, next round is on me,” you stand up and wipe the last of the cheese from your mouth. “if you can beat me again, i’ll consider letting you prove that silly bowling theory wrong to me.”

the speed at which jake gets up is dizzying. he’s at the counter paying before you can even catch up to him, sliding a few bills over to the employee and turning to you with a playful grin. “we’re at lane 7, babe. go get warmed up.”

✧ sunghoon - laser tag

your heart is racing so fast you can feel it in your head. clutching the plastic gun to your chest, you press yourself closer to the wall and still your breathing. the red light on your heavy vest has stopped blinking, meaning you’d recovered from the last hit, but you know you can’t risk running just yet.

the undeniable sound of footsteps creeping closer makes you inch toward the corner of the wall, where you know sunghoon is waiting for you. you bite your lip and tense your finger on the trigger, peering over the bricks that are obscuring your vision.

surely enough, even in the darkness of the laser tag arena, you can make out sunghoon’s determined face. he’s crouched down behind a beat-up car, wearily scanning the area. most likely looking for you, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction just yet.

the blue on his vest has dimmed down– you’d hit him several times earlier and knew this was probably one of his last lives left. your own indicator showed that your lives were also running low, and based on how exhausted you felt, you knew you couldn’t have much time left from the round. you had to move in soon, or risk tying with sunghoon.

in your case, you thought that would be worse than losing.

taking a deep breath, you lift your gun and peer around the corner one more time, and in the split second it takes for sunghoon to notice you, you manage to send a shot straight at his vest. but the light on his vest doesn’t budge, and as you realize you had horribly misaimed, your date takes the opportunity to aim at you properly.

your vest makes a video game-like noise of defeat and you feel your gun power down. you know you have to hide for the next minute to let it recharge, but as you spin around and try to figure out where to run toward, you notice sunghoon already closing in.

“such a shame,” he drawls, holding up his gun with a smirk. you frown, backing up until you feel your shoulders hit a concrete wall. sunghoon’s voice is quiet enough not to draw attention from your teammates, but it sends shivers down your spine nonetheless. “thought you’d finally beat me this round. what happened, babe?”

“i still have one more life left, don’t get all cocky.” you mumble, shaking your gun frustratedly. the minute needed to pass by quicker.

looking over his shoulder, you realize with a frown that you’re in quite possibly the most secluded part of the arena. there’s no hope calling out for help or trying to make a run for it.

sunghoon squints down at your indicator and moves in even closer. you feel your breath quicken when the front of his vest hits yours, and you’re left caged in to stare up defiantly at him. he’s grinning at you like he’s already won.

“i’m not going to let you win,” you lean in toward him and whisper. sunghoon’s eyes flit toward your lips, and you try not to think about throwing your chances out the window and kissing him.

“you don’t have anywhere to run,” he places a hand next to your head on the wall, and to really drive the point home, you feel him press the muzzle of his gun against your side, where you know your sensor is. you’re pretty certain he can hear how fast your heart’s beating, and it makes you flush red from embarrassment. “you ready to admit defeat yet? or are you going to keep being stubborn?”

there’s no reason you should feel this lightheaded, but sunghoon’s so, so close to you that you can’t think properly. he’s practically pressed up against you, warm and solid and he’s barely a few centimeters away, and if you lean in just a bit more, you’ll be able to kiss him.

so that’s what you do.

“sure,” you say simply, and lean up to softly brush your lips against his. you grab at his neck with your free hand, bringing him flush against you so that you can fully slot your mouth with his. he’s surprised– you can tell from the way his gun clatters loudly to the floor next to you, and you try not to smile into the kiss.

seconds later, you distantly hear your gun make a familiar rebooting sound. you hold sunghoon firmly against you as you blindly aim your gun toward the sensor on his side, and with one last peck to the side of his mouth, you pull the trigger.

sunghoon’s vest goes dark. you don’t think he registers this, though, because he stares at you wide-eyed and adorably confused as you pull back from the kiss.

“i win,” you tease, and your date blinks down at his indicator.

“you win,” sunghoon affirms quietly. conveniently, the overhead lights turn on as the round draws to a close, and you can’t help but notice the way he’s reddened all over.

“victory kiss?”

✧ sunoo - picnic

ten minutes into your date with sunoo, you make the most devastating observation ever: sunoo has freckles.

they’re visible for only seconds at time, when the sun hits his face at just the right angle, but it still makes your breath catch in your throat every time you see them. they’re littered across his face like miniature stars, dipping across his cheeks in multitudes and scattering off toward his temples and brow bones.

your hands itch to reach out and trace them.

“–and then once we finally got to the place, it turned out to be super cute and they had some of the best lemonade i’ve ever had.” sunoo’s voice slowly trickles back into your ears, and you blink the world into focus once again.

you find your date looking at you with crinkled eyes, studying your features with amusement. almost like he knows exactly what’s been going through your mind.

“sorry,” you laugh sheepishly, reaching out to grab another chocolate-covered strawberry. sunoo had made them himself for the occasion, that much he’d eagerly disclosed within the first few minutes of the date, and you had found it too endearing for your poor heart. “i got distracted. what was this place called again?”

"auntie lim’s diner,” he answers slowly, smirking when you nod off-handedly. “hey, what’s on your mind?”

“lemonade,” you respond just a bit too quickly, face blanching when sunoo’s grin grows impossibly wider. whining and covering yourself with your hands, you try not to focus on the way his melodic laughter rings out like bells.

“lemonade, huh?” sunoo’s teasing is light-hearted, but that doesn’t stop your heart from leaping up into your throat. “was there some on my face? because you’ve been staring an awful lot for the past few minutes.”

groaning, you duck your head and try to focus on finishing your strawberry. you can feel the heat rise from your cheeks to your ears though, and are certain sunoo’s made note of this when he giggles and leans forward to get a better look at you.

“you’ve got freckles,” you mumble, picking at the leaves of the strawberry. when sunoo doesn’t respond for a while, you look up and bravely gesture toward his cheeks, pointing at where you’d seen the aforementioned spots with a shaky finger. “and like– it’s super cute. you’re super cute. but it caught me off-guard so, like. yeah. sorry for staring.”

sunoo hums. you can feel his eyes roving through your face, but you immediately look away once they finally meet yours. then, you feel something warm encasing your hand, and nearly jerk in surprise when your fingers come to brush against the soft skin of sunoo’s face moments later.

“don’t apologize,” he mumbles, leading your hand down the side of his cheek, where you’d pointed just seconds ago. “i’m really flattered you noticed. and you don’t have to be shy about stuff like this, i’d honestly be a bit worried if we were on a date and you didn’t find me attractive.”

reveling at the supple skin beneath your fingertips, you feel the weight ease off of your chest almost instantly. despite having known each other for a limited amount of time, sunoo’s come to be quick at recognizing when you feel out of place or uncomfortable, and he’s become too good at easing you back into safe waters. he’s too good to you.

“don’t get ahead of yourself,” you tease back instead, unable to handle the growing wave of emotions in you. “i only said your freckles were cute.”

sunoo looks up at you through his lashes, and your hand freezes where it’s fallen by his chin. flitting your eyes downwards, you watch his rosy lips part, almost like they want to voice your hidden intentions. gulping, you subconsciously feel yourself draw in closer, until you can feel his breath wash out against your cheeks like water on shore.

your heartbeat’s in your ears and sunoo’s pretty mouth is right there. glancing back up at his eyes, you notice that he’s also looking down at your lips, tracing the minuscule movement of your tongue peeking out to wet them.

he’s so close. you can almost just lean in a bit and–

“yeah? so then my second date invitation to auntie lim’s diner has been rejected?”

pausing, your eyes widen as you stare back at sunoo in bewilderment. he’s grinning at you slyly, the edges of his eyes crinkling with laughter as his whole body shakes with amusement. you can’t help the string of giggles that bubble out of you almost like second nature. it’s nice, you think, having someone like sunoo to laugh with.

“i mean, i guess i’ll have to try this lemonade you speak so highly of."

✧ jungwon - boba place

in retrospect, choosing a first date location for you and a total stranger was easier than you thought it would be. yang jungwon, as your best friend had briefly introduced him to you, seemed simple enough to enjoy normal things. you already had a place in mind before your friend showed you his photos, but you really couldn’t help it once you laid eyes on him.

“has anyone told you your eyes look like tapioca pearls?”

jungwon’s cat-like features curl in amusement and he pops his lips off of the boba straw. he chews through his last gulp, wiping at the droplet of milk tea that had trickled out onto his bottom lip. you follow the movement with your eyes, coughing when you absentmindedly swallow a pearl without chewing it fully.

“no, but should i take that as a compliment?” jungwon asks, passing you a napkin.

you take it and wipe at your own mouth, cheeks growing red out of embarrassment. “yeah. but now that i think about it, it does sound kind of weird. i don’t want to eat your eyes, i promise.”

jungwon laughs, mouth pulling into an endearingly wide grin. okay, your friend had definitely undersold him. jungwon was cute as fuck.

“why’d you choose a boba place, anyway?” he continues, fiddling with the cup in his hold. he’d finished his drink surprisingly fast, and you have half a mind to offer him some of your own. “not that i don’t like it. great choice, honestly. but why?”

you shrug. “the atmosphere is nice. and if you’re going to go on a date with someone you don’t know that much, might as well go somewhere you can talk. it would be pretty awkward to watch a movie with a stranger, don’t you think?”

jungwon nods seriously, hair bouncing along with his movements. “your friend was right about you being smart.”

“yeah?” now that you thought about it, you hadn’t considered how your best friend had sold you to jungwon. given that he’d agreed, you figured it must’ve been pretty alright. that, and the fact that it was your beloved best friend in question, you had no doubt you were probably oversold, if anything.

still, there was a nagging curiosity in your head that you couldn’t ignore. “what else was my friend right about?”

“that you’re easy to talk to, and that i’d feel comfortable around you,” jungwon muses, glancing down as he traces the rim of his plastic cup. he seems to be mulling over his next words carefully, lips twisted into a cute pout. “they also said that you were pretty. the photos they showed me really were great, but you’re even better in person. not that looks are the most important thing but, y’know. you’re a package deal, basically.”

you feel the way your ears burn red from his words, and you stutter your way through a shocked thank you. jungwon grins knowingly, but doesn’t comment on it further. instead, he asks you if you want to share one of the cake slices in the display window that you were eyeing earlier. you try not to look too eager as you nod, choosing to ignore jungwon’s mumble of cute as he walks away. for your well-being, of course.

jungwon returns with a slice of red velvet and two forks in hand. he waits for you to take the first bite before sinking his own fork into the cake. “your turn. what’d your friend tell you about me?”

you know you have to word your answer carefully, or else you worry you’ll come off as a weirdo. jungwon’s too good to chase off just yet, and you haven’t had this much luck with a date in a long while. or ever, you think.

“my friend told me that the most important things about you were that you’re a psychology major and that you look like that one campus cat,” you trail off, unsure, “charles? was that his name?”

jungwon barely manages to set his fork down before he’s bursting into laughter. you would think you’d said something wrong but his entire face is crinkled with amuse and you can’t help but join in on the giggling, ignoring the glaring teenagers from the table over.

“charlie, yes, of course i know him,” jungwon manages to squeeze in between giggles, “oh my god, i didn’t know people outside of my friend group knew about this joke."

“so you’re the cat that’s always hanging around the quad,” you say, dead-serious, and jungwon meows cutely as if to agree with you.

“okay, so,” he puts his hand up and begins listing off on his fingers, “i look like a boba ball, the infamous cat on our campus, and what else?”

“my next boyfriend,” you say before you can stop yourself, and you slap a hand over your mouth in surprise as your cheeks color in embarrassment.

jungwon grins. “that can be arranged.”

✧ niki - arcade

“okay, now i’m actually convinced you’re cheating,” niki whines loudly, letting go of the controller and slumping back in his seat with a pout.

the game you’ve been going at for the past half hour– a car racing game set in an alternate reality– dramatically replays the moment your character crossed the finish line and won. the stark contrast of the accompanying confetti on the screen next to niki’s misery makes you giggle, and you reach out to slip the tickets that the machine spits out into your backpack.

“will you feel better if i get you something with these?” shaking a strand of tickets enticingly, you watch as your date immediately sits up and abandons his sulking to nod at you eagerly.

the teenager working the prize desk looks at the two of you with such a deadpan expression you nearly mistake him for a robot. gathering your pile of tickets onto the counter, you look up at the various different stuffed animals and boxes on display, frowning once you notice the ticket prices taped onto them, denoted with far too many zeroes for your liking. almost like inflation’s gotten to the arcades as well.

“see anything you like?” you turn to niki, brushing your shoulder against his.

you watch him survey the different rows, expression growing grim once he comes to the same exact realization as you.

“um,” it’s almost comical how you can hear the frown in his voice. “actually nevermind, these prizes are crazy. holy shit, three thousand tickets for a snorlax plushie?”

“right!” you nod, ducking your head and stifling your laughter when the employee sighs out loudly.

with your meager six hundred and thirty-seven tickets, you and niki manage to get a handful of smaller, yet arguably better things: a sticky frog, two chinese finger traps, a whistle that sounds like duck quacks, and three boxes of different pocky flavors.

“i had no idea that coconut pocky existed,” you mumble in awe, reaching into the packet to draw out another stick. you observe it under the fading sunlight, popping it into your mouth with a happy hum.

after you and niki had spent your fortune of tickets, you’d decided to take your business elsewhere (or, alternatively: leave before the employee ended up kicking you out). you found yourselves on a bench right outside of said establishment, going through each of the prizes that you’d tucked away into your backpack.

“me neither, but i really like ‘em. here, have some of the mango ones,” niki holds out a second box towards you, and you eagerly reach in to pull out some of the sticks. 

the sun’s begun to descend down the horizon, and you realize with a start that you’d managed to spend the entire day in the arcade with niki. the date seems to be drawing to an inevitable end, much to your disappointment, but you can’t help and savor the warm feeling that the day has left you with.

“it’s getting dark,” niki seems to read your thoughts. you hear shuffling and turn to see him stand up and collect his belongings, reaching out to offer his hand to you once he’s done. “i should walk you to your bus stop.”

staring up at him, you blurt, “do you want to go get a proper dinner instead?”

the words rush out of you before you can think, but no matter your shyness, you’re glad you’ve said them. niki’s surprised expression quickly morphs into something gentler, and he nods almost like he’s relieved. “oh thank god, i didn’t want to go home yet either.”

laughing, you take his hand and stand up from the bench you’d been sharing for the past hour. but even after he helps you up, niki doesn’t let go of your hand, instead threading his fingers through yours to hold you more comfortably.

you don’t say anything, but when niki looks over at you to make sure it’s okay, you smile at him brightly.

“so– fried chicken?”

[eupheme]

mean wade or just him playfully making fun of you as he makes you cum consecutive times until you squirt? I'm so down bad for this man it's worrying 😭

Ohh I am 👀💖 anon! I went with a smug/teasing Wade for this (and also a sort-of follow-up to this fwb!wade drabble), I hope that is ok!! Thanks so much for sending this to me!

flood it | wade wilson x f!reader

800 words | multiple orgasms, fwb!wade, piv, squirting

It’s white against pink, as his lips stretch wide. Parting teeth as he pants, a stripe of red across his nose where his mask has been tugged up.

His scarred chin glossy. Smeared by the back of a hand, not more than ten minutes after he slipped through your bedroom window.

All too eager to answer your text. Still in his suit, grime worked into the creases as he laid you out on the floor of your room, unable to make it to your bed.

Your sleeping shorts had still been on, then - panties tugged to the side so his tongue could slip against your slit in greeting.

Record time, before your thighs were clamping around his ears, hips lifting into the air - hand stifling your cry.

The scarred tip of his cock rutting against your core, as your other hand clung to his wrist.

“Turned you a horny little monster, didn’t I?” He coos, “You still need it that bad?”

The sound of annoyance you make turns high, as he notches himself at your entrance - fitting every inch inside.

“S’okay.” It’s murmured out - just as he draws back, before hilting himself again, “I like that you can’t get enough.”

Another cry pulled from you, with the pump of his hips, the swirl of his fingers. Pleased - his lips meeting yours, halting the filth that pours from them.

He tastes like you, as you open for him, and that does more to you than it should. You can never resist him, that ache of want that lingers beneath your skin. Him and his mouth, and every inch of those six foot two inches, as he curves over you.

A hand splayed across the ankle that’s hooked against his shoulder. Near bending you in half, intent on finding the exact spot that has your nails sinking into the woven rug.

“There we fucking go. Bet you can give me another.” His hum low, when he finds it, “Bet I can make you gush all over my cock.”

You’re still not used to his enthusiasm. A late-night message sent in desperation that he was too eager to answer. Still intent on making up for all your supposed ‘lost time’.

Intent on making sure that your experiences with him eclipse all others.

“Can’t, Wade.” It’s sighed out - but even as his hips move, that dull twinge of overstimulation bleeds into pleasure, “Haven’t-“

But he only groans - the words husked out as eyes dip down to where you’re joined.

“You will for me.”

A greedy moment - his tone low. Possessive, for a flicker of a second, before he’s grinning.

“It was the request, after all,” He winks, his tongue peeking out, tasting you against his lips, “And I’m always happy to prove you wrong. Again, I might add.”

And maybe you want him too. Maybe it’s in the look you give him - heavy-lidded eyes, your hips lifting into the sharp snap of his.

A moan, at the slick way you grip him. Capturing your hand that slips down to help - pinning your wrists above your head.

“Uh uh.” Wade’s head shakes, “This is gonna be all me.”

The steady pound of his cock sending you higher, that deep pressure inside you building swiftly towards another peak.

“When your toes are cold because you ruined this rug by gushing all over it, you’re gonna be thinking about this.”

It makes you moan. This thing between you had gotten messy - deeper feelings caught somewhere between that first kiss to now. Don’t know how to tell him that he’s all you think about.

Not sure how to name the flip inside your belly - a tight, twisting ball of pleasure - so close to coming from just his cock. Your eyes wide as it begins to swell - his name whimpered out as you squirm on the floor beneath him.

“Fuck. Yes.” He pants, “Want you to fucking flood it, come on.”

Your gaze on his, when you do. Seeing how the white eyes of his mask widen - curving with his smile when your head tilts back.

Crying out, as he makes you come hard. As he fucks you through it, the sound filthy with the clap of his hips against yours. Leaking with each flutter of your cunt around his cock, dropping down to dampen the coarse hairs at the base of his cock.

Wade’s rhythm going sloppy as his ego soars - your foot slipping from his shoulder, wrapping around his waist just as his mouth presses to yours again.

Slick still leaking down his cock, the red leather at his groin glistening when he throbs inside you. Spilling with a rough groan, fingers pinching at your hips as he holds you flush.

Only then, does his other hand leave your wrists. Fingers entwining with yours instead, still keeping you pinned. A smirk, as he catches his breath.

“So.”

It’s huffed out, as the rock of his hips pushes another messy drip out of your cunt. His release and yours mixing together, just as it should.

“What else do you think you can’t do?”

[onskepa]

Yay requests are open!

What about a platonic Ronal x scientist? Yes they study the planet but ronal cannot help but like them because they respect the culture, her medical skills and only seems to find the silver lining in her stiff comments. Like come on human I am trying to make you leave through the power of rude and you just gave me a freidnship bracelet? Wtf I imagine tonowari just snickering every night as she complains about her new best friend

Hellooooooooo darling~!!

Yes! Another ronal fic! Thank you for requesting and I hope this cute fic will satisfy you and everyone else! Enjoy~!

Irayo pt2

-------------

Irayo

“You are good to go, if anything goes wrong or if they are not very welcoming, just say the word and we will get you” the head director of the ocean na’vi program says. In front of him was the new girl. Determined and open minded to learn new things, and was given the ultimate task. 

Make the first human contact with the reef na’vi. 

Nodding in excitement, the new recruit gets into a canoe with her prepared items. Making sure she is set for sail, she looks at her comrades. “I will let you know everything. Hopefully, this can go well. If doctor Agustine has faith in us, we can't lose��� she says with optimus in her voice. 

Saying her last farewell, she sets off to the Metkayina island. 

“This will be good, I can feel it!”

She arrives at the island, her eyes in awe as she gets closer to the shore. So many na’vi! They all stare at her, many in fear, others in curiosity, and many ready to fight her. Raising her hands, she gets out from her canoe and displays she is of no harm. 

“I come in peace, I bring no harm” the human girl announces in perfect, fluent na’vi. 

Many, from what she suspects are warriors, stare at her in surprise. 

“You are a sky demon! Leave or we will not be easy on you!” one of the warriors warned her. Another warrior follows after. 

“We heard what you did with the forest na’vi, leave! You only bring death and sorrow wherever you go”. 

The tension was building fast among the other people. Mothers protecting their children, might warriors standing in front of the weak. Any wrong move and she might end up dead. Which is a high factor. 

The crowd breaks as two significant looking na’vi walks through, from how they are dressed and the others willing to step aside, the human knew exactly who they were. 

And it gave her excitement. Already the first and she is seeing so much! 

The human was quick with the traditional na’vi greeting of “I see you”. In hopes that the tension can lessen if she displays their ways. 

The Tsahik and Olo’eyktan looked at her carefully. Observing her every move and detail. Small hint of disgust but also confusion as to why a human is here. 

“Hello, I bring no harm. I am here to learn your ways. Allow me to prove myself to you, perhaps you have heard of the dark stories of what the humans did to other na’vi, but I promise you that I only bring peace. Please, teach me your ways”. 

Ronal doesn't know what or how or even why. But after a lengthy discussion with Tonowari, they granted the human permission to enter their home. And learn their ways. As best a human can learn. While Tonowari was more loose on letting the human in, Ronal felt different, at first she came defensive and was always on alert should the human do something that seems bad under her eyes. 

But the human was aware where the line drew, only did what she was allowed to and dared not to push boundaries. Ronal wasn't making it any easier for the human. None whatsoever. In fact, Ronal planned to make things so difficult for the human that she would have no other choice but to leave. 

Now if only it worked that, and not Ronal making it harder for herself. 

 “Put more strength in your arms. It must be thinned out and easy to separate. Any thicker and it will be difficult to mix” Ronal instructed the human with a harsh tone. She was teaching the human how to make crushed, thin, dust-like green material. Very dry leaves that were thoroughly picked from their small forest.

The human woman smiled and obeyed, “alright tsahik”. Doing exactly what she is being told. That is the thing that irks ronal. The human doesn't fight back. She doesn't do anything! 

“A child can do a better job than you,” Ronal says with a snarky tone. The human just takes it, “I don't doubt it. This is more of their ways” the human replies with such calmness in her voice. Not a hint of anger, impatience, nothing. 

“Dont think this will be enough, there is still much more to grind down” Ronal says, as she places a lot more dried grass in the already big pile. The human stops for a few seconds to look at the bigger addition. Ronal smirks, surely this will be it? “Guess I better grind faster to finish all of these” the human says in glee and continues to grind. 

Ronal’s smirk left her lips, fine then. Tomorrow will be worse. 

Harsher insults, harsher training, harsher practice. Ronal threw everything at the human, but nothing breaks the human girl. And it infuriates her to the core. Why wasn't she fighting back? Why was she accepting everything? Why was she letting ronal belittle her? 

Ronal’s anger grew to where Tonowari had to enterfier. 

“Ronal, perhaps you are pushing her too far?” he asks her one day. Ronal scoffs as she does her small tasks in their home. “The human can bare it. Anything I give her, she accepts. That utter fool” she replies. Annoyance heavy on her tone. “She won't break so easily. Not made of sea glass” she continues. 

Tonowari sighs, walks up to her and places a hand on her shoulder. “Perhaps not, but your tolerance is thinner than these fibers. Perhaps by surprise, it will be you who will break first”. 

The human began to make and wear her na’vi like clothing to fit in more. And as she talked more with the other clan members, more began to welcome her with open arms and even into their homes. Adapting more into their culture and ways of life. They began to accept her. 

Ronal wasn't so ready to accept the human. 

Not yet at least. 

One night, after the communal dinner, Ronal took the human away from the noise and into a more quiet part of the small forest. Yet, along the way, the human not once asked where they were going. Never questioned ronal’s actions, her odd behavior. Nothing. 

When they arrived at a beautiful blue glowing waterfall, Ronal kept a bit of distance from the human. 

“Tell me human, why do you accept?” Ronal asks after a few minutes of silence. 

The human blinked once, “accept what tsahik?”. 

Hissing in frustration, Ronal turns to look at the human in anger. 

“Why do you accept everything?! I keep pushing you to do beyond what you physically can. Accept any insulting word I give you. Force you to do things clearly you are not very comfortable with. Why do you accept my harsh treatment towards you?” 

The human sees Ronal and sees how she truly feels. Taking a deep breath, relaxing her shoulders, the human does what she does best. 

Give her an honest smile. 

“You have every right to treat me that way. While I am not personally responsible for the thousands of killings of the na’vi, I still feel ashamed and guilty as if it were my own crimes. My kind has treated your kind terribly. So, I understand if you feel any anger or hatred towards me for simply being human. But I accept, I accept it all. If it means to be part of your world, your clan. I would gladly accept anything you throw at me. This is a dream come true for me. This planet, the life it holds. The environments, plants, animals, you. I love and respect everything about your world. All I desire is to learn how things are. From learning about Eywa to learning of the na’vi ways. My only desire is to learn. To have you personally teach me, it is a high luck I could never get anywhere else. So that is why I accept all that you give me. A price to pay for the things I can see and experience. So Tsahik, that is why I accept it. As my way to thank you” 

Ronal saw the human, looking deep into her eyes to detect any lies, but all she saw was the truth. 

“You fool…”

“Irayo, just in time for breakfast” Ronal welcomes her human friend. Irayo, that is what Ronal calls her ever since that night. It's been stuck to her ever since, not that she plans to defy the tsahik wishes. 

Irayo sits in the home of ronal and tonowari. Accepting the food, she begins to eat. But not soon after, she felt a little tug from her wrist. Looking down, Irayo sees little tsireya playfully tugging at her bracelet. Taking it off, she hands it to tsireya who tries to bite down on it. 

“Has tsireya began teething?” Irayo asks, ronal nods but gives a disapproving look.

“She will rip off the beads. You worked so hard to make it for us” Ronal says as she points to her own matching bracelet. Irayo laughs, “that is fine. It will give me an excuse to make better friendship brackets for us. I will even make another for cute little tsreiya” Irayo replies as she playfully pinches tsireya’s chubby cheeks, making the child squeal in delight. 

Tonowari sits down to join them. 

“Today irayo and I will attend to the elderly, tsireya will be under your care until noon” Ronal says to him. 

Tonowari nods, but couldn't help but smirk a bit. Leaning in, he whispers into Ronal’s ear. “Your friendship with irayo has improved greatly. I still remember when you called her many foolish names”. 

Ronal rolls her eyes and taps his forehead lightly. 

“I recall no such things. Irayo has been my good friend from the start”

Aaaaaaaaand that is all for this one! I hope you all enjoyed this fic! Until next time, see ya!

-------

Irayo = Thank you

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

Hiiii!!!! Uuhh sorry I get a bit awkward to approach new people but oh my god I needed to say that I absolutely love your work!! Im truly a fan!! Your Fierce Deity fics bring me to life and I cant stop thinking about it <333

Not sure if this idea is interesting enough but I cant stop thinking about it and I thought you could maybe like it!!

I keep thinking about Reader talking with the Fierce Deity's mask (imagining he still sealed in the mask) like he was physically there, just rambling. We could show him the sky and the grass, mundane things, talk about our thoughts and ask questions to him, like what is it like to be a god and if he is happy with his life.

One question that also pops a lot in my mind is asking what gods thought of humans or maybe, what he thought of them, of us!! Ofc he doesnt respond bc he is inside the mask but then one day he is off of it and he remembers each and every question we ever asked, and is willing to answer them all NFKENFKWFKWKKFKWKDKW

Its just an idea, you dont really have to do it, but everytime I think about it or Fierce in general, I cant help but also think about you <333

Im really glad I found your work!! I hope we can be friends!! :DDD

I wish you a lovely day my little leaf!! Toodlessss 🍃🍃🍃

𖠰 Woods 𖠰

Okay first of all, this idea this absolutely amazing!! I'll have you know I was practically VIBRATING with excitement while reading this! You have no idea how stoked I am to receive asks like this, so do not feel bad at all for sharing! Also what we're literally already besties <3

Man In The Mask

Pairing: Fierce Deity x Reader

Warning(s): N/A

Masterlist

What are you?

It was a question the Fierce Deity had heard a thousand times, often accompanied by blood and blaze: a question of those he protected... and those he did not, whispered on the heels crimson-dripped lips and frightful eyes. He was a god of war, and thus not one to engage in the folly of mortals. Orders were his foundation, and steel his soul, wrapped in a righteous evil that not even the goddesses could bear to gaze upon.

Which is why he felt nothing short of hedonistic when it fell from the lips of the paltry mortal's holding the wretched mask that trapped him centuries earlier. Voice soft and eyes softer, touch featherlight on the chipped edges of his prison. There were thumbs on the apples of his 'cheeks', and the deity was caught between rage and sorrow. Tumultuous emotions were not his strong suit, and neither was restraint, from the way things were looking.

He didn't need to stand before them to feel their weakness, as was typical of most humans, but there was an ember in your eyes that seemed to burn with a light he didn't dare remember, shining like a beacon in the night.

"I wonder who painted you," the human, you, mused, stroking again over the half-glossed finish of the mask. Gentle, comforting, and utterly indecipherable to the deity inside. "You're so dusty; did Time even polish you?"

Why... Why was that relevant? Never in his wildest thoughts had the Fierce Deity expected Time to intrust his 'care' to a human, much less you. His very existence was a burden; how could a so-called hero willingly place something so... so destructive in the hands of, well, he considered you quite innocent to the tribulations of war and bloodshed and sorrow.

But what could he do but wait, snug under your arm, as you prattled on about anything and everything. The notion that you were naive enough to talk to a mere mask, of all things. Had you no sense? No discretion? It was a question he often asked himself, though only because there was no one else to answer.

That didn't stop his dull wonderings on whether you would ask such questions if he stood before you in the flesh. Would you cower? Fight? Flee? Perhaps he would remember the words that fell from your mouth, just to prove himself right once again.

***

The Fierce Deity mask weighed heavy in your hands as you plodded down the small path towards home. A thick forest bordered you from the east, while a blooming prairie stretched as far as the eye could see from the west. There was no doubt in your mind that you were incredibly lucky to live where you did, a fact that was only exemplified by the nine heroes that had crashed into your life (and living room) through a portal that looked straight out of Coraline or some shit.

Never in a million years would you have expected Time, the distrustful forest child he was, to entrust anything to you, much less a mask that supposedly held the spirit of one of the greatest entities of his world, but you supposed it was only proof that miracles did still exist. Maybe.

Either way, you had taken up the mantle of caring for the mask, and there was no way in hell you were going to screw up. Not that Time would let you, the worrywart, and you were only just beginning to catch him not staring holes into your back.

Chronic mother hens aside, it didn't take a genius to figure out there was something terribly wrong with the item tucked under your arm. Whether it was the crimson and navy facial markings or innocuous radiation of something akin to evil, you had no doubt that Time's warnings were not in jest.

Despite this, you couldn't quite shake the idea of a soul being trapped inside, well, the mask was practically a prison at this point. And maybe, just maybe, you felt a modicum of guilt at the entity's fate. Had he deserved it? Perhaps. Was it cruel? Without a doubt.

Which is why you found yourself taking the Fierce Deity's mask with you when you went to the store, or the library, or simply for a walk in the forest, tucked in your satchel to protect from prying eyes, though you always adjusted the cover so at least one of the eyeholes was free to gaze upon the wonders of your world. It was a small mercy that you were willing to afford, one that quickly spiraled into conversation with the mask itself. You always had a habit of speaking out loud, and now you, presumably, had an ear to listen.

But it was all speculation at this point; Time had never outright confirmed whether a living creature resided within the painted oak, only that it was imbued with an evil so ancient it could challenge the goddesses. You had stopped listening at that point, muttering 'drugs' under your breath, but there was always hope in your tone when you reminisced about the world around you.

With a sigh, you stopped, bringing the mask to the forefront of your vision, thumbs instinctually tracing the crimson stripes on the cheeks. It was baffling that something so beautiful could feel so wrong in your hands. You desperately wished to uncover the truth, to breathe in the big reveal and revel in the known mysteries of life.

"What are you?" The words slipped off your tongue like silk, right enough that you could have chalked it up to fate. The mask felt warm, basked in the fading rays of the golden sun, and you had the distinct feeling of being watched. The pads of your thumbs stroked the raised cheeks of the mask, disturbing a thin layer of dust, as more words spilled forth. "You're so dusty; did Time even polish you?"

It felt strange, talking to the mask as if it was a person, but you were too intrigued to care. If an entity truly resided within, you wondered what he thought of you. Was he impressed? Disgusted? Resigned? You had grown up with the belief that if gods truly existed, their disappointment would be without bounds, but that assumption didn't feel accurate when you stared at the shadowed skin of your palms through the eyeholes.

What horrors had a deity of this caliber seen through eyes of oak... and why were you so desperate to find out?

***

The Fierce Deity was convinced you were either crazy or stupid.

Night had fallen some time ago, filling your small quarters with only the pale light of the moon. His prison sat propped against the contraption you called a 'lamp', facing the bed in which you slept. Your nighttime routine was... unusual, to say the least. In his time, maidens wore long shifts to sleep, while here, you had treated him to the ludicrous sight of what could only be described as the shortest britches he had the displeasure of viewing and a sleeveless rag of a tunic that looked as though you wore it to a scuffle with a large animal, not to mention the sheer audacity you had to undress before the mask without regard for decency. Had the Hero of Time not informed you of his status in this wretched prison, because it was as though you had forgotten or simply didn't care at all?

Whatever the case, it was with much dread that the Fierce Deity only found himself more attracted to the mortal cursed with his care. Your life was, at most, mundane, yet you spoke as though every day was a great adventure, in a tone that could have inspired countless scribes into a flurry of activity. More shocking, however, was how he could feel himself clinging to your every word, like a dog waiting for scraps. He had been alone for so long, and the reality that a mere mortal considered him, well, mortal enough to converse with was a reality he never imagined contesting with.

But, despite how thrown off he was, there was a certain comfort in the quiet nights you spent together, however inadvertently they came to be. After a life of isolation, he found a purpose in the steady rise and fall of your chest, in the snorting giggles of your laughter, and the way you flipped the edge of your pack to grant him sight, never mind that he was fully capable of viewing the world without it. It was for that reason that the rage in his battered soul waned a fraction, leaving a sliver of room for whatever this was, and the reason his mind refused to release thoughts of your whispered queries, always centered on him, whether it be his health, status as a deity, or happiness.

Farfetched as it was, the Fierce Deity, god of war and blood and death, waited hours for you to wake, unblinking because he would be damned to miss the very moment of your return to the land of the living, the languid stretch your body performed as you groaned softly, rubbing the creases of your eyes with the same gentleness you treated him to. He would study the outfits you wore, committing them all to memory so he could better understand the core of who he considered to be his savior. Maybe then, when he was free, he could begin to repay your kindness–bit by bit, word by word–until distance became more of a myth that him, and your tender warmth could be validated by more than just a paltry mask. Your very breath became his meaning, your soul his muse, and the Fierce Deity was sure he would never forget it.

But in the meantime, perhaps he would remember the words that fell from your mouth, just to prove you right once again.

I can't begin to express how beautiful this felt to write. The Fierce Deity truly is my muse.

ALSO there will be a part two, so keep your eyes peeled!

[gay-dorito-dust]

So like, hear me out, bill can get drunk from like alcohol, (or something weird inter dimensional drink) but either way he can get drunk like a human. Does that also mean he can get sick? Can you make a bill x reader where reader is taking care of Bill while he's sick and it's basically just:

reader: lie the fuck down man, your sick as shit

Bill: NO, I DON'T *NEED* REST, I'M AN ALL SEEING GOD WITH INFINITE POW- *fucking passes out*

‘Bill please go back to bed.’ You groaned for what felt like the tenth time that day when you saw the floating silhouette of the triangular demon from the doorway

‘No! I’m not like you flesh bags! I don’t get sick!’ He says as he then proceeds to cough an abnormal amount, to say that Bill’s coughing fit sounded like the pits of hell opening up was an understatement, you still remembered that he sent someone insane when they accidentally saw his endoskeleton when he was eating. Even the thought of that made you uneasy and a little queasy.

‘Well what would you call that?’ You replied sarcastically as you moved to look at him, unimpressed when you saw he had draped himself with the blanket you gave him like he was fighting off the cold within him, and wearing blue striped pyjamas all the while his eye/mouth was half lidded and almost lifeless looking. In that moment Bill cipher didn’t look like the all knowing and powerful demon, but instead a sick little puppy that was too stubborn to listen to commands from someone else.

‘Realising the demons.’ Bill snarled, he moved to look at what you were doing that was so important that it made you leave the bed so early. ‘What’re you doing, aren’t you supposed to be serving me like you flesh bags should?’ He then asked as he floated to your side to stare down at the pot of soup as though it had insulted him. ‘I’m making you soup for your sick little self your ungrateful shit.’ You said as you gently pushed him aside so that you could make sure that you weren’t burning the soup by overindulging him with your attention.

‘Has it got deer teeth in it?’ Bill then asks, his voice was rough from all the coughing and he looked at though he winced with every words, and without hesitation you offered him a soothing cherry cough sweet, and for once Bill didn’t fight you on this and popped it into his eye/mouth, letting you knew it was indeed bad if the dream demon wasn’t putting much of a fight about being treated as though he was weaker.

‘Unfortunately no it does not have deer teeth in it, besides I don’t know what the boiling point of deer teeth would be, if they had one.’ You tell him as you began to ladle some of the soup into a small bowl. But before you could blink, bill snapped his fingers and soon enough there was a layer of small, half melted deer teeth on top of his soup. You looked over at him just to see him shrug beneath the blanket you gave him.

‘Deer teeth makes everything better, you flesh bags are so far behind on the times.’ Bill said condescendingly as he made some deer teeth appear in his small hands but before he could eat one of them, you were quick to snatch them away from him as he cried out in surprise. ‘Give them back!’

‘Not until you eat your soup and go back to bed.’ You told him sternly as you held the packet of deer teeth away from the whiney sick dream demon that was currently pressing himself up against the side of your face.

‘Which one do you want me to do? Bed or soup, you humans are so unnecessarily confusing.’ Bill whines again but this time he couldn’t find the strength to keep himself floating as soon he was resting in the crook of your arm, fighting back the need for sleep out of a necessity to prove that he was above such a thing as illness, but found himself snuggling up to your warmth more so then ever. ‘I am the almighty bill cipher and I will not..not let this…illness get the better of the dream demon.’ He murmurs to himself and you couldn’t help but smile at how cute he could be when he’s not making your life a living hell.

‘Sure you are, now let’s get you to bed your stubbornness.’ You said as you carried bill in one arm and his deer teeth laced soup in the other after you finished up ladling his soup and putting the pot in the sink to wash at a later date, before making your way back up to your room as Bill murmurs threats as he looks up at you with a half hearted glare.

‘I could end you weakling, I really could so I wouldn’t try me.’ He would say but with his sore voice, blanketed form, and striped pyjamas, you couldn’t help but feel as though you were being intimidated by a sick puppy.

‘I know you can.’ You replied.

‘Don’t mock me.’ Bill whines once more as he threw a weak punch to your bicep with his small hand. ‘I am not needing anyone to look after me, I can do it by myself.’ He adds as though flaunting his hyper independence.

‘I’m not mocking you, I’m helping you and secondly that didn’t even hurt, and thirdly what do you normally do when get sick?’ You asked as when you arrived to your room you placed bill down on the bed, setting the soup aside on the bedside table as you tucked bill tightly beneath the covers. The triangle demon shrugs as he feels his mind becomes foggy with the need to sleep, he hasn’t felt this weak in a long, long time and now here he was being pampered and looked after by someone he deems weaker by comparison; He hates it but there wasn’t much energy left in him to do anything other than sleep.

‘Nothing because I’m not of a weakling species like you.’ He replied and you scoffed.

‘Sounds about right, anyways go to sleep and you can have your cold ass deer teeth soup when you wake up.’ You told him as you stood up to leave the room, only to feel a little hand grab ahold of your shirt but as you looked at him to say something, bill was already asleep but his grip on your shirt was tight. So you sat yourself down on the chair by the bed, trying to make yourself feel comfortable before falling asleep yourself, knowing the this scenario will repeat until the bastard felt better again.

So until then, you could rest without having the worry that a floating Dorito chip wasn’t going to faint on you anytime soon.

[bad268]

The Light Behind Your Eyes (Logan Sargeant X Kirkwood! Reader!)

Fandom: RPF/F1

Requested: Nope (inspired by MCR) Was gonna post this Saturday, but it seems fitting now.

Warnings: mentions Williams being a shitty team

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 1338

Summary: Logan's eyes seem a little darker this season...

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

You hated what this was becoming. Formula 1 was Logan’s dream. It’s always been to get to Formula 1 ever since he was a child and you two met at a karting track. You were there because your brother and Logan raced together. Kyle definitely told Logan he wasn’t allowed to date you, but who listens to that? Yeah, not Logan.

Now, he was happy you were with Logan. Logan told Kyle more about the Williams situation than you simply because 1) Kyle is his best friend and 2) because he knew you would say something. Kyle is usually just there for Logan to vent.

What Logan didn’t know was that Kyle has loose lips and can’t keep his mouth shut. You asked Kyle one time if he was planning to meet up with Logan anytime soon and he spilled everything. You didn’t even pry! Kyle just let everything out.

How alone Logan felt on the grid to how the mistreatment and lack of confidence from his own team have been beating down on him negatively. Kyle also told you about how Logan didn’t want you involved because he did not want to hurt your feelings or make you feel like you weren't enough. 

Of course, you were going to take it into your own hands at this point. You decided to talk with some people who happened to be looking for a new driver for 2025, and you may or may not have planted an idea in their heads. It actually did not take too much convincing since they were already thinking about it.

One day, after another bad race where the team made him switch places with Alex when Logan was on course to get points, you decided to talk to Logan about it.

“Logs?” You asked as you peeked into the bedroom. You two had made it back to the hotel, and you left him alone for a few minutes just to calm down a little before this talk. “Can I tell you something?”

“Yeah, sure,” he sighs, rubbing his eyes harshly before sitting up and making room for you. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I’m worried,” You started as you sat in front of him and held his hands. “You’re not telling me everything.”

“What do you mean? I’m fine,” Logan dismissed without making eye contact. “It was just a bad race-”

“No, it’s a bad team and a bad season,” You interrupted, moving your hands up to his face. You looked into his stormy eyes as they glossed over. “I can see it in your eyes. Logan, you’re losing the light in your eyes. You’re not having fun racing anymore, and it’s killing me just watching you force yourself. You don’t have to go through this alone. Please let me help you.”

“I don't know what else I can do, babe,” He muttered, trying to regain his composure. “They’ve made it pretty fucking clear that they don’t trust me. They take any opportunity to tear me down and bring up the fact that they have replacements on standby. I don’t know what else there is for me to do.”

“You don't have to have the answer, Logs,” You comforted as you ran your fingers through his blonde hair.  “Just let me take care of you for once. I can’t have them take the light behind your eyes.”

“I just-” He hesitated, but you encouraged him to go on.

“You can be honest, Logs,” You prompted as you moved to seat yourself on his lap to hold him in your arms. “I’m here to listen.”

“I don’t know who I am without racing,” Logan whispered as his voice cracked. He pulled back a little to look you in the eyes, and almost all of the light was gone. This was all because of one team. “I don’t know where else I can go if I don’t have a place in F1.”

“Sometimes we must grow stronger, and you can’t be strong in the dark. Williams is proving to be the darkest cave, and they’re pulling you deeper every time they degrade you,” you ranted before stopping to take a deep breath. “When I’m here, you can always lean on me. Let me take some of the burden because I’m here for you, Logs. I have a plan, but we need to work as a team, and you need to trust me on this. Even if it means abandoning a contract.”

“You’re plan is for me to leave F1?” Logan asked, not as shocked as you thought he would be, but genuinely curious nonetheless. 

“I have something lined up, but I’m waiting to hear a final decision,” You answered vaguely.

“Can I know what series or team?”

“All I’ll say is you should go back to your roots,” You answered again just as vaguely. 

It wasn’t for another month that you heard anything back, and it was not from your contact. 

“Tell me how you got Logan on the grid,” Kyle cornered you as soon as you walked into your family home.

“Hello. Good afternoon. Wonderful day we’re having. How are you? I haven't seen you in a while, What’s happened to your manners, Kirkwood?” You said sarcastically as you brushed past him to greet the rest of your family.

“Hello, oh favorite sibling of mine, how are you on this fine day when Logan Sargeant announced he was leaving Williams immediately and signed with Prema for next year in Indycar,” Kyle said sarcastically at first before dissolving into shouts.

“Oh, did he already sign?” You asked confused before muttering to yourself, “Last I heard, they were still discussing.”

“So you do admit that was your plan?” Kyle pointed out as he followed you around the kitchen. “How did you convince him?”

“I technically didn’t,” You admitted. “I asked him to let me help and he never really answered, but I had already talked to Rene about it. He was already planning on talking to Logan about it. I just kinda pushed it to happen sooner rather than later. On the bright side, Logan and I can go with you to the last few races of the season.”

“I don't want to see my sibling and best friend making out in my garage,” Kyle cringed as he walked up beside you and threw his arm over your shoulder. “Thanks for looking out for him though. Maybe being home will be better.”

“Being home? I also thought about him knowing more than one person on the grid,” You chuckled.

When St. Petersberg came around, energy was high again, and Logan was looking like his old self again. He was happy to be around Kyle more often. He got back in touch with Pietro Fittipaldi, Marcus Armstrong, Callum Ilott, Christian Lundgaard, and Theo Pourchaire since he knew them back in F2 and F3. 

As the pre-race was heating up, you stood on the track beside Logan while the national anthem played. You glanced at his face, and he looked so much more relaxed and relieved than he did a mere six months ago. Things were finally looking up for him.

After the flyover, you moved about and helped Logan get ready for the race. You quickly grabbed his helmet and Hans device, assisting him in putting them on. 

“Any last pieces of encouragement you have for me?” Logan smirked as he put in his headphones and balaclava.

“Race hard, have fun, and never let them take the light behind your eyes, you hear me?” You jokingly commanded as you helped him put his helmet on, your new engagement ring shining in the sunlight. The broadcast got a clear shot of that.

“I hear you loud and clear,” He responded with a smirk. “Thank you, I’ll win this for you. I love you.”

“As long as you’re safe, I’ll be proud,” You patted his helmet and headed over to the box as Logan got situated in the car and prepared to start his engine for the next chapter.

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[xxsabitoxx]

NSFW Alphabet With The Hantengu Clones

Sekido | Karaku | Aizetsu | Urogi x AFAB reader

Warning: this whole post contains smut

A/N: I am here to provide for y’all. I’m going to try and get as much Hantengu clone content out as I can this week LMAO. I am determined to pioneer and fill the clones’ smut tags

A= Aftercare (what they’re like after the act)

Sekido: he’s quiet for once, though he won’t necessarily comfort you after everything he put you through. He’s more or less going to offer you a wet cloth to clean yourself but he won’t do it for you. He’ll share the bed after to sleep but that’s it.

Karaku: talkative and teasing, he’s going to push your tangled hair out of your face and comment about how fucked out you look. He’ll clean you up but isn’t exactly gentle. He’ll lay beside you after but not cuddle, more or less lay shoulder to shoulder.

Aizetsu: he needs praise, he’ll tell you how good you were but he needs you to do the same for him. He prefers if you clean each other up opposed to doing it alone. He’s big on spooning after, big or small spoon, it doesn’t matter to him so long as he’s touching you

Urogi: everything is a competition, when it comes to aftercare he’s determined to be the best at it. He’ll give you whatever you need, clean you up, give you water, help you walk and care for the accidental wounds from his claws. He’s also a fan of cuddling.

B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)

Sekido: his hands and his biceps. Your neck, he’s obsessed with biting it and leaving angry looking teeth marks on your skin.

Karaku: his chest and his abs. Your ass, he loves to hit it, squeeze it, scratch it. He loves when it turned bright red after hitting it hard.

Aizetsu: his hands. Your everything. There is not one part of you that he doesn’t adore, he finds all of it attractive

Urogi: his abs and his thighs. To be blunt, he loves your pussy. He’s not ashamed to say that either, he’ll gladly proclaim it to anyone.

C= Cum (anything that has to do with it)

Sekido: prefers to cum inside, finds it the easiest to clean up that way. He’s not very fond of making a mess with his cum

Karaku: loves to cum down your throat or on your face. He likes how pathetic you look covered in his cum

Aizetsu: he cums wherever he feels like it, he likes seeing your ass covered in it but he also likes seeing it seep out of you

Urogi: his goal is always to cum inside rather than on you, that means in your mouth, your cunt or in your ass

D= Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory)

Sekido: he loves when you have a sharp tongue and degrade him. It doesn’t happen often but he loves how it makes him feel. He’s angry, always in a bad mood, sex is the only thing that is able to calm him for a bit and when you talk back it only fuels is desire to unwind

Karaku: secretly wants you hurt him. He can regenerate, you’d have zero chance at actually causing him real, lasting harm. But he wants you to cut him up, hurt him, make him beg you to stop all the while you’re using his dick like a personal toy

Aizetsu: he wants you to tie him up and use him, leave him there for hours at a time, hard and leaking and waiting for you to satisfy him. He wants you to edge him until he’s crying and begging, just like he does to you. Though he often gets upset with you…

Urogi: he wants to fuck you in the wilderness. Given the fact that he can fly, he can get the two of you to some pretty fascinating places. Want to fuck on the side of a mountain? On top of someone’s house? Up in the trees? You name it, he’s sure he can find it.

E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing)

Sekido: he’s had his fair share over the last century but he’s also selfish in bed. He knows what he’s doing but he thinks you need to earn it. Prove to him that you deserve it.

Karaku: he knows what he’s doing but he hasn’t had as much experience as Sekido. He’s more laid back and doesn’t mind his partner taking the lead and showing him a thing or two.

Aizetsu: initially he had no idea, just a lot of fumbling and confusion at first. He excels if he has a partner with experience and would rather you show him what you want to do

Urogi: he has experience from peeping on people, over the last century his appearance has made it harder to actually go out and put his acquired skills to use. Luckily he has you

F= Favorite position

Sekido: mating press

Karaku: cowgirl

Aizetsu: doggy

Urogi: butterfly

G= Goofy (how serious are they)

Sekido: extremely serious. Like no joking, no smart comments, fully serious and fully focused

Karaku: a healthy mix of goofy and serious. He’s more laid back, making slick comments here and there

Aizetsu: fairly serious, he isn’t one to really make jokes in general, more or less he’s too focused and a bit worried to even attempt

Urogi: completely unserious. He’s going to make sly comments, crack jokes at your expense

H= Hair (grooming habits)

Sekido: bald, the hair annoys him

Karaku: trimmed, he keeps up with it

Aizetsu: trims it occasionally but usually he lets it be

Urogi: completely untamed, not one fuck given

I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)

Sekido: rough, there are a few intimate moments but most of the time he’s focused on blowing off some steam

Karaku: dirty, filthy even. He’s not afraid to be intimate but most of the time he’s doing this to fulfill desires opposed to romance

Aizetsu: romantic unintentionally, his constant need for praise and reassurance definitely helps

Urogi: heathy mix of romantic and rough, he’s smart enough to know what you enjoy. That way you won’t leave

J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)

Sekido: never… which is probably why he’s so damn mad

Karaku: any chance he gets

Aizetsu: rarely, he’s a bit embarrassed of it

Urogi: he’d find someone to fuck before resorting to it

K= Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)

Sekido: he’s a sadist, enjoys BDSM, Dacryphilia all the way

Karaku: he enjoys bondage, Somnophilia, and degrading

Aizetsu: massive praise kink, discipline, impact play

Urogi: breeding kink, asphyxiation, lactation

L= Location (where they like to get it on)

Sekido: private and practical, prefers the bedroom

Karaku: not ashamed of being caught but prefers to keep it inside. Would rather a couch, bed or table

Aizetsu: bedroom or bathroom, too scared of being caught

Urogi: anywhere and everywhere. Wherever you want and wherever he can take you

M= Motivation (things that makes them tick/turn ons)

Sekido: when you’re a brat. He wants nothing more than to put you in your place and remind you that he’s superior

Karaku: cute/revealing clothing. Any inch of skin you tease is enough to rile him up

Aizetsu: praising and complimenting him. He’s a bit sensitive and can get easily worked up by the simplest of affirmations

Urogi: trying to run away. He loves a good game of cat and mouse, finding it cute and exciting that you think you can escape him

N= No (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do)

Sekido: slapping, yeah he’s pretty angry most of the time but he refused to intentionally hurt you / touch your face in such a way

Karaku: role play, he doesn’t get it. He’s a fucking demon, either you take him as he is or not at all, he doesn’t get why you’d want him to act like something he isn’t

Aizetsu: bladder patience, if there is a chance he may get embarrassed, he’s not into it all at

Urogi: blindfolds, he needs you to look at him and he needs to see your pretty face. He won’t settle for anything less.

O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)

Sekido: given that he has the most experience, he’s pretty well versed in the world of oral

Karaku: quick learner and quick to please, he’s cocky about his oral skills and even likes to annoy Sekido by saying he’s better

Aizetsu: he needed some guidance at first, but once he got the hang of it, there was no going back. He’s pretty good

Urogi: a bit aggressive but very eager, he knows what he’s doing and won’t stop until he gets his way

P= Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed)

Sekido: he’s rough and has a lot of stamina, he can last three or four rounds before needing to slow down. Willpower of a god though, he can hold off his own orgasm for a good 10-15 minutes inside of you.

Karaku: he’s a bit more sensitive but tries to act like he’s not, that being said, he can only go about two rounds before getting too sensitive and overheated. Lasts about 2-4 minutes each time he’s inside of you

Aizetsu: not a one and done deal but he definitely needs a minute after coming once, he’s lasting 3 minutes tops once he actually gets inside. He’s a bit shy about it but your reassurance helps

Urogi: fucking feral, he could go on for hours, round after round without needing a break. Each time he’s inside of you he can last about 5 minutes or longer before it’s too much to hold back

Q= Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard)

Sekido: If you've pissed him off enough then absolutely, I don’t think it’s possible for him to go slow/easy even if he wanted to

Karaku: Similar to Sekido, it really depends on if you do something to piss him off. Which is a more impressive feat in the long run. I see him typically not being in a rush

Aizetsu: never, he likes going at his own pace and doesn’t appreciate being put on a time limit nor does he like the feeling of being obligated to do something

Urogi: he’s the most feral of the four imo, therefore any chance he gets… he’s going to take it. Time crunch or not he’s going to snatch that opportunity right up

R= Risk (do they like to try new things)

Sekido: rarely, unless he has a very intense desire to try something

Karaku: risky, he's not opposed to trying new things

Aizetsu: not really keen on trying new things, you'll have to persuade him into it.

Urogi: very risky, there are few things he won't try

S= Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts)

Sekido: 3-4 rounds, starting strong and able to last 10-15 minutes for the first two rounds, round three and four he dwindles to 5-10 minutes

Karaku: 2 rounds before needing a break, he can last about 2-4 minutes each time. Foreplay is more his thing

Aizetsu: 1 round before needing a break, 3 minutes max. He’s sensitive and trying to build up his tolerance. Stamina isn’t an issue, he’s just really fucking sensitive

Urogi: the only way he’s stopping is if he passes the fuck out. He’s feral in every since, stamina lasting him 5 minutes at least once he gets inside. They only time he takes a brief break is if you beg.

T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers)

Sekido: he works with what he has, but sometimes that’s simply not enough. He’s more than willing to use toys if it means they can get the job done in a satisfying manner

Karaku: obsessed with vibrators, he loves the way you squirm because of him, the way you tense and flex around his cock.

Aizetsu: hesitant because he doesn’t want them to replace him. He needs to feel that importance, to know he’s the one that brings you that pleasure. Sometimes toys can ruin his confidence

Urogi: never, he has everything you need, he’s sure of it. Toys would just be a useless addition. Though his opinion may change if you sneak one in

U= Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves)

Sekido: he's rude, teasing you until you're sobbing and pleasuring himself in front of you and leaving you untouched. Super unfair.

Karaku: unfair to an extent, the suspense is fun for him but perhaps not so much for you. He'll give in eventually.

Aizetsu: he's pretty fair, mostly because he can't contain himself from time to time and thinks its just easier to give in

Urogi: he's fair unintentionally, he's too damn horny to bother holding back. Which results in nearly equal amounts of pleasure for both of you

V= Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)

Sekido: grunts and groans but rarely talks, even then he tries to keep the noises he makes quiet

Karaku: he’s a moaner and he’s not ashamed of it, he’ll use dirty talk the whole time as well

Aizetsu: he whimpers and whines and even cries, it’s the one thing he’s not embarrassed about either

Urogi: this mother fucker screams, he’s yelling, howling even, not one bit ashamed of how good you make him feel

W= Wild card (random sincannon of any sort)

I don't have individual HCs for them at the moment, but I do have a group HC in a modern AU setting. The four of these mother fuckers are stoners and you can't tell me otherwise. Karaku is the dealer who supplies his brothers. The apartment they share often reeks of weed, and one of them always has smoke seeping out from under their closed bedroom door. Stoned sex is a common situation.

X= X-ray (what’s down below in dem pants)

Sekido: 5.7 inches when hard, no curve

Karaku: 5.3 inches when hard, slight curve

Aizetsu: 4.8 inches when hard, curved

Urogi: 5.5 inches when hard, no curve

Y= Yearning (sexdrive level)

Sekido: moderate

Karaku: moderate-high

Aizetsu: low-moderate

Urogi: very high

Z= Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after)

Sekido: within ten minutes

Karaku: depending on the time, right away or within a few hours

Aizetsu: under five minutes

Urogi: he’s only stopping if he passes out

[sugaurora]

Dream Come True

Since your brother had warned you years ago that his best friend Seokjin was off limits, you’d only allowed yourself to safely fantasize about him in your dreams. You’re not sure why tonight his lips feel so much softer and his hands so much warmer than usual, but you’re also not about to complain.

Pairing: Med Student Seokjin x Plus Size Female Reader

Genre: Brother’s Best Friend; Friends to Lovers; Smut

Word Count: 16,800+

Tags: Profanity; Explicit sexual content; unprotected sex; Seokjin is a soft, sweet, gentle guy and I’m so gone for him, big dick seokjin, inexplicable amounts of cum???, dirty talk, cumplay, breastplay, oral (m and f), fingering, of course they kiss a lot because that’s my brand, brief blood mention, wound redressing

If you enjoy my writing, please consider buying me a Ko-Fi!

Crossposted to AO3 and Wattpad

Writing Masterlist

“Oh! Y/N? I didn’t know you were here, love.”

Ahh, there he was again—the man of your dreams. And you had to be dreaming because, thanks to the rules, Seokjin could only meet you alone inside your dreams. You heard him loose a light groan of frustration, his voice so close by you should have been able to reach out and touch him. The world of your dreams was still dark though, the always breathtaking vision of him not yet fading in.

“Your brother would kill me if I let you sleep here all night.”

Dream Seokjin was right. Your older brother, Yoongi, had laid down his law years ago: his best friend was off-limits. No dating. No kissing. And definitely no fucking. Understandably, he didn’t want anything coming between him and the bestie he’d had since kindergarten, especially not a sour relationship with his little sister just in case things went south. So the only times you found yourself alone with Seokjin were here inside your unconscious dreams. Thankfully, your mind was kind to you and let him visit often. Unthankfully, it was so kind that seeing the man during your waking hours was sometimes a little torturous. It was why, even though Yoongi had given you permission to crash in Seokjin’s bed tonight, you’d ended up on their uncomfortable couch instead. Better a stiff back than the torment of smelling your one true temptation all night long.

You heard a light pop as Seokjin clucked his tongue. “The pull-out’s been broken for weeks. How could he let you fall asleep here?” The scene of this dream still had yet to form in your mind’s eye, even though Seokjin’s sweet voice still sounded so temptingly close.

Jungkook liked to joke that you spent your spare time fucking out your frustration over the cockblock. As your best friend and roommate, he might’ve been a little right in analyzing your bad habits. Though it was rich coming from him, a masochist in his own right. A photographer with a keen eye for gorgeous men, he’d called your brother his ultimate muse since the first day they met. But like most people, Yoongi never gave him the time of day and Jungkook had been nursing a pining blueball of his own ever since.

At least being barred from pursuing the man you truly wanted had never left you shy about pursuing your sex life. Maybe the constant temptation of someone you couldn’t have made you much more likely to seek out satisfaction elsewhere. Even if it meant you were never truly satisfied, leaving a trail of fuckbuddies who still wanted a bit more of you in your wake. Your habits probably weren’t helping to convince your brother that anything between you and Seokjin would ever be a good idea, and even though you would’ve enjoyed a chance to prove him wrong, you loved Yoongi just enough to respect his wishes. Mostly.

Seokjin had always had a different allure from your usual flings. Your history together since childhood stretched long and had formed in you a crush that ran beyond skin deep. You’d gotten reckless more than once, losing your sense and attempting to buck your brother’s request. And time and again, Seokjin had proven he wasn’t interested. No amount of revealing outfits, spicy innuendos, or inappropriate proximity seemed to phase the man. Considering how Seokjin spent almost all of his time consumed with school anyway, you should’ve given up ages ago. If only that one memory would stop resurfacing and making you wonder at the what-ifs. Still, he never seemed to notice you in that way, never acted like he would be interested in anything romantic with you.

Dream Seokjin though? Oh, that was a different story. He was always interested.

“I’m going to take you to sleep in my bed, alright?” he asked in a gentle whisper as though he were sharing a secret. Seokjin’s unforgettable scent that you’d been trying to avoid invaded your dreams despite all your best efforts. Fresh cotton, earthy cedar, and that subtle, sweet scent of fruit that always clung to him surrounded you, making you curse your own memory for being so potent. Your dream finally faded into vision just as you felt the soft pressure of his fingertips against the back of your neck. You were still in your brother’s living room, though the space was dimly lit and all you could see were Seokjin’s bare, broad shoulders, his skin the color of rich honey, damp and glistening in the barely there light. His dark brown hair hung around his face, slightly heavy as though still a little damp from a shower, curling just above the dark-rimmed glasses he usually traded his contacts for at night. You groaned internally, unsure why your subconscious had intended to be so kind, yet so cruel for the evening.

“Hey, it’s just me,” he said in that same soft rumble, the edges of his familiar, plush lips curving into the gentlest of smiles. “Go back to sleep, love.”

Love. Seokjin had called you that for years. Sometimes, when your pining got a little out of hand, hearing the nickname stung. But he’d been you and your brother’s friend before anything else and, no matter how much he’d made himself scarce since starting med school, you had no doubt he truly did love you.

Suddenly it felt like you were floating, though that feeling was overshadowed by the radiating warmth of Seokjin’s bare chest. You felt the impression of him skin-to-skin as his arms hooked you beneath your knees, his large hand splayed against your back, the blanket you’d curled around yourself falling away. In the waking world, you’d never considered whether he was strong enough to carry you. Compared to your svelte brother, you had inherited a much plumper body type, all soft rolling curves, rounded wherever you could be. Seokjin may have been taller, but you were surely heavier. To be fair, Seokjin had never lacked in athleticism. He’d been a track star his entire college career and still spent more than his fair share of time sculpting strong, lean muscles in the gym. He said it helped strengthen his constitution so he would rarely get sick at the hospital and it gave him the stamina to focus for his long hours of study. It may have also given him a fair shot at lifting you without much difficulty. Of course, even if he couldn’t, in your dreams it wasn’t surprising that he could do anything.

You were curious how this strange dream would play out though. You’d spent countless nights dreaming of him in endless scenarios, from pirating on ships and flying through outer space to driving in race cars and solving crimes between the stacks at his university library. Sometimes he spent the dream pleasuring you in any way you could imagine and other times you went on nonsensical adventures together, ridiculous in the way only dreams could be. But in your current dream state, you couldn’t recall one quite as ordinary as this. You curled into him as he carried you, letting the delicious warmth and fresh air of his scent envelop you as he moved and enjoying the feeling of the flex of his forearm muscles against your legs.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got you,” you heard him say in gentle reassurance.

Fuck. As if you hadn’t suffered enough that day, clearly the night intended to be torturous as well. The race track where you worked was a lot closer to your brother’s apartment than the one across town you shared with Jungkook. So you’d sent a pleading message, asking if you could crash on their couch for the night. Since Seokjin was spending a night shift at the hospital, your brother had offered you his friend’s empty bed. And since you’d needed to avoid that torture, you’d chosen to use their wonky couch instead to etch away enough of your exhaustion to be able to function like a normal human being in the morning. Yoongi’s room was quiet, his door closed when you arrived. So you’d showered away the funk of the day in Seokjin’s en suite and borrowed one of his oversized t-shirts, saying a thankful prayer for his massive shoulders because it fit perfectly.

It occurred to you too late that his scent likely lingered on the clothes, triggering your poorly buried desires. Now Seokjin was in your dreams, smelling like heaven and touching your bare skin. Any dream with Seokjin was a good dream and, just like any other, you intended to enjoy the fantasy as much as you could. But no matter how much you enjoyed it at the moment, your misjudgment in borrowing his clothes meant you were going to wake up horny and disappointed.

You hadn’t realized your vision of him had faded out again until you felt your body being lowered into soft, cushioned sheets and a new blanket being drawn up over your body. You heard Seokjin curse softly under his breath, the darkened vision of him fading in once again. Why was he so hot when he cursed? Perhaps because it was so rare? The room was lit only enough that you could just barely make out his broad silhouette at the edge of whatever bed he’d lain you on. Could see his bare chest not far away from you in the dark, planes of skin that you longed to touch so temptingly close. Scratch that. Why was he so hot in general? Your narrow vision slowly faded and you thought the dream might be ending already, your body quickly slipping back into a deeper sleep. Then you heard the faintest sigh and felt the surface just next to you shift, the weight of Seokjin’s body settling into the bed beside you. You felt soft fingertips stroke your forehead, brushing lightly against your skin.

“I really hope someone’s told you how pretty you are when you sleep,” he said quietly. He faded back in then, hand outstretched in front of your face, lips slightly parted as he stared down at you in a look of subdued reverence.

It was enough. Even if you were cognizant that this was all a dream, that none of it could ever be real, you didn’t want to let your chance fade. Understated as it was, it was honestly the closest to the real Seokjin you’d ever dreamed of; thoughtful, doting, and kind in the selfless way you’d appreciated about him your whole life, in the way it took you a long time to accept that you deserved. Slowly, you leaned up, watching his eyes widen slightly as you did so.

“S-sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to wake you. I’ll…” His words trailed off as you lifted your hand and pressed it against the side of his face, letting your thumb trace the soft skin of his cheek. He breathed in quick and sharp in response. Real Seokjin was visually striking. But the close-up of this dream Seokjin was starting to drive you mad. Between the level of detail your mind conjured, from the tiny mole just below his collarbone to the exact pink shade of his lips to the muscled lines of his bare chest, it was all enough to make you wish this fantasy would never end. Sometimes in these dreams, you kissed him roughly, took control of the moment, and loosed your sexual frustrations within the safest setting you had available. But since this Seokjin was so much more like the real one, tonight you wanted to meet him gently, experiencing a delicate pleasure you could never have in real life.

You let your lips meet his jaw first just below his ear, savoring the barely there shudder that rippled through his skin at the contact. You made a slow path of light kisses up and along the length of his jawline, savoring each time you connected with his skin. Finally, you let yourself indulge and pressed your lips firmly against the warmth of his mouth. You were happy you had taken your time to enjoy him. His lips felt the softest they ever had, better than your imagination had ever conjured before. You wondered if you’d wake up with one of Yoongi’s stuffy cardigans smashed against your face.

He didn’t respond at first and you worried you might’ve dragged the fantasy out too far, that perhaps the dream really was over, your brain overheating from bringing to life so much high-definition detail of Seokjin’s exquisite mouth. Then you felt a strong grip circling your waist, fingers skirting around to the small of your back and pressing you forward and into him. There was a shift in the bed underneath you as he leaned further into your kiss. Slowly, tentatively you felt his tongue seek lightly for entrance. You indulged, allowing this dream whatever access it wanted, not knowing when your subconscious would be this kind to you again.

You tasted the sweetness of his mouth as your lips parted, as Seokjin’s tongue grazed your own ever so lightly. He tasted like mint and sugar and you exhaled at the feeling of him pressed so close, your own hand still cupped just below his jaw, the raw pound of his pulse beneath your fingertips so surprisingly tangible. He breathed a delicate moan into your mouth and you felt him pull back just a little, still close enough that his breath ghosted against your lips as he spoke.

“We can’t…” he said, words tight and restrained. Because above anything else, Seokjin was a gentleman. A gentle man. He had never been anything but kind, fitting between you and your brother’s rash abrasiveness like a soothing gel. This close, you could see the desire floating in the rich, dark brown of his eyes, belying his words. Even here in your unconscious mind you knew this was wrong, that you weren’t allowed to be with Seokjin in this way.

You let your next kiss be your answer. Here, you could. Here, in the safety of this fantasy, you could have each other exactly as you wanted. As you greedily took up his lips again, as he responded with a greed of his own, tongue meeting yours, hand at your back pulling your body closer still against the bare of his chest and causing the blanket to slide away from your body, you knew you’d be masturbating to the fantasy of this kiss for weeks to come.

Seokjin’s light touch came to rest atop your thigh as he kissed you, sending sparks skittering against your bare skin and up between your legs. Since you’d only been able to find one of his t-shirts, you’d gone to sleep on the couch with that on and nothing else. And it seemed that had transferred to your dreams, his fingers dangerously close to the hem of a shirt with nothing underneath. Since your brain had put so much energy into recreating every detail about him, conjuring up pants likely wasn’t high on your subconscious’ list of goals.

“Y/N,” he said softly, pulling away from your kiss and instead brushing his lips against your cheek. “You’re not drunk or something, are you?”

You laughed air through your nose. What a weird thing for a dream to say. Though, what a very responsibly Seokjin thing to say. You pressed in for another deep kiss, desperate for yet another taste of his tongue. You wondered what you had eaten during the day to deserve a dream so vivid, so satisfying as the taste of him filled your mouth, the smell of his freshly washed body, the clean scent of his shampoo and soap filled your senses so strongly you would swear he really was right there with you.

Your own hands traveled down, fingers tracing the defined lines of his bare chest, over each of the stomach muscles he had chiseled to perfection. And hurriedly, before your alarm knocked you out of this bliss, you slid down to cup the firm impression of him on his lap that your kissing had produced, warm even through his shorts. It had always helped to fuel your dreams knowing how enormous his cock was. You’d seen the thick outline of it enough times over the years, straining against his basketball shorts or sweatpants, to know it was more than enough to satisfy you, to be able to imagine it well enough in your dreams.

“Y/N,” Seokjin moaned softly into your mouth and hearing your name in his voice, in that sensual and yet almost embarrassed quality you had never heard before sent a throbbing ache between your legs. His hand shifted from your thigh, fingers sliding upward to squeeze gently around your breast through the soft cotton of his shirt. Ok, maybe not weeks. As his thumb brushed lightly against your nipple. As his body began shifting, leaning you down into the bed. As his mouth got hungrier, intensely kissing you with a baser passion. As you felt his knee land between your legs, felt it press against the bareness of your heat there, you decided you would be getting off to this dream for months, maybe even years.

“Seokjin,” you panted, though your voice sounded too real, too raw, too desperate. Dream you never sounded like that.

He pressed his teeth ever so lightly into your lower lip in response. His hand moved from behind you as he laid you down and gripped your thigh, likely intending to reposition you beneath him for a new, more erotic purpose. You’d never get to know how or why. You hissed in response as his fingers closed around your fresh injury of the day and a sharp pain shot through your thigh, cracking through every layer of pleasure that the dream had built.

“Y/N?” Seokjin said in a panic, body instantly off yours, sitting back on his heels and staring down at you in shocked concern. “What is it? Are you alright?”

You froze. You felt your body seize up, fear blocking out the pain for a moment. Seokjin froze too. You stared up at his face in the dim light of his bedroom, at the dark hunger still swimming in his eyes even as worry set in, the flush in his too-warm skin, the bruising swell on lips you’d studied for years. At the blankets of his bed folded back beside you both. At the wall behind him lined with his collectibles and rows of medical books. At the clothes you’d forgotten to grab after you’d showered, left in a messy pile at the edge of the dresser just outside his bathroom. At Seokjin in front of you.

Seokjin. Real Seokjin. Your brother’s best friend since kindergarten Seokjin. Real Seokjin whose hand had been squeezing your breast, whose hard cock had been pressed against the palm of your hand, whose tongue had been dancing inside your mouth.

“Y/N?” he asked in a nervous breath, cementing the reality in front of you.

You gasped and jumped back until you ran into the headboard behind you. Seokjin was off the bed immediately.

“Shit, shit, I knew it. You’re fucking drunk. You don’t taste drunk.” His eyes widened at the implication of his own words, hands flying to his lips, then to his hair, ruffling his fluffy strands. “Shit, I’m so sorry! Fuck!”

It was so strange to hear Seokjin, who was usually so soothing and patient with his tone, spout off in this panicked cursing. The absurdity knocked you out of your shock and a sharp pain faded back in, forcing you to reach for your thigh again. You felt a warm dampness and looked down, noticing dark red had begun to seep through the flimsy bandaid you’d stuck on after showering.

“What…what happened to your leg?” Seokjin asked as his gaze followed yours down. You watched as his years of training began to overtake his panic at the other situation. “Wait. Let me get the first aid kit.” He was out of the room before you could say another word.

What the fuck had just happened? You replayed the events in your mind with a new, awake perspective. You had fallen asleep on the couch. Seokjin found you on the couch and brought you in here to his bed. But you thought it was a dream. You kissed him. It would be so embarrassing except…Seokjin had kissed you back. And as far as you could tell, he wasn’t drunk or half-asleep. He’d definitely kissed you. His hand had definitely just been squeezing your tit, right?

He returned with the first aid kit and, after switching on the lights, he set to work, peeling off your band-aid and assessing your cut.

“This happened at work?” he said with a disappointed huff.

You shrugged. “It didn’t seem like a big deal at the time. Accidents happen.”

His grimace deepened, though the downturn only rounded the plush of his lips and drew your mind back to his kiss. “I already worried about you before when you worked at the shop,” he continued. “Now you’re already getting hurt at the track.”

That was enough to make you peel your eyes away from his lips and stare out across his bedroom instead. Unlike your brainy brother and his best friend, both of whom had run to medical school as fast as they could, you’d followed your childhood love of cars right into mechanic repair, much to your parent’s chagrin. It didn’t always pay the bills, so you’d picked up odd jobs over the years—barista, fitness instructor, delivery driver. But finally, finally this year you’d landed your dream job—working on race cars. You’d been at the track all day, getting to know the team and the workings of the raceway, and spent half the time touching cars you’d only ever watched in videos. It had been all your fantasies realized until another careless rookie somehow sent a tapered awl careening in your direction. Luckily, it had only grazed you before pinging off the lifted tire chassis just behind you and skittering to the floor. Still, it had sliced right through your jumpsuit and left you with a nasty cut on your thigh. After tightly wrapping it in some clean rags, you’d powered through the rest of your day, but by quitting time your body was at a new level of exhaustion. It was why you’d ended up here in the first place.

This new job meant everything to you and Seokjin knew it. Hell, he’d been there with Yoongi and Jungkook to celebrate when you’d gotten the offer. You didn’t want to admit it, but it hurt hearing that he didn’t approve after all, especially when you were so used to him being the first to back up your decisions, no matter how unorthodox.

“Hey, don’t misunderstand me,” he said and you forced yourself to look back in his direction. His eyes still didn’t meet yours though and you hissed a little as he rolled antiseptic onto your cut. “I know you’re passionate about what you do. I didn’t mean I thought you should stop. Just that I worry. I’ll take care of you no matter what, but I just want you to be careful out there, alright?”

“Take care of me?” you laughed. Seokjin was studying specifically to be a pediatric doctor. “You take care of children, Seokjin.”

His eyes finally slid up to yours and there was something new and unreadable floating within them. The sight sent a nervous shiver prickling down your spine.

“I know the adult body too,” he said quietly.

Your eyelids fluttered as his words flew straight down to your core and Seokjin looked down again, hands stretching a proper bandage. He patted the side of your thigh, encouraging you to lift so that he could wrap it properly.

“Why are you here?” you asked as you adjusted for him. “Yoongi said you had a shift at the hospital tonight.”

Seokjin’s eyes went wide for a moment before he cleared his throat and continued to bandage your thigh. “Low patient census so the preceptor sent most of us home. Your brother didn’t tell me he’d told you to come by so I had no idea you were here. I guess I walked right by you when I came in.”

Finally, he finished his work on your leg and you noticed the reddening blush spreading across his cheeks. You realized your repositioning for the bandage had given him a clear view between your legs, where you currently wore no panties. You lowered your leg and Seokjin repacked the first aid kit, determinedly looking anywhere but at you. You pulled the blanket across your lap in a belated effort to spare him the discomfort. You may have been confident in your body, and you may have craved Seokjin in a very carnal way, but forcing him to unwillingly stare at your vagina wasn’t high on your list of seduction tactics.

“I’m really sorry about earlier,” he said, voice wavering with embarrassment. “I hope you know I’d never, ever take advantage of you, especially not when you’re under the influence. There’s no excuse for-”

“What?” you questioned, cutting him off. “Seokjin, I’m not drunk.”

He paused, blinking up at you in confusion. You sighed, deciding it would be best to just be honest about it.

“I dream about you sometimes so,” you paused, chewing at your cheek for a few seconds. “So I thought I was dreaming.”

His face screwed up in disbelief, his perfect eyebrows pressing far too close together. “That doesn’t make it any better!” he whisper-shouted, voice pitched a little higher. He glanced at the doorway, then scrubbed a hand across his face. “Yoongi is going to absolutely murder me.”

He reached down to gather up the first aid kit and backed off of the bed, rushing to head toward the exit.

“Wait,” you called out after him. He was clearly uncomfortable and part of you wanted to let him leave if only to help him feel a little better. But Seokjin had kissed you back. His hands had been ready to explore your body in the dark. And after spending the past few years thinking you’d imagined him ever having a moment’s interest in you, you couldn’t let the night pass without at least finding out the truth. “What if...what if I want to keep dreaming?”

His footsteps slowed to a stop and he stared at you from just before the doorway, studied you for a long moment, the tips of his ears slowly growing redder.

“What about Yoongi?” he asked, voice quiet and sincere.

You blew out a laugh, though you could hear your nerves in it. “Well, I mean he’s not in my dreams. My nightmares maybe.”

“No, I mean...he said...and you…”

You patted the bed in front of you, encouraging him back to the space he’d hurried away from a moment ago. “What did he say, Seokjin?”

Seokjin stayed silent for a few seconds, staring back at the doorway as though it was his only path to salvation. You watched his free hand clench into a fist then slowly unfurl as he flexed his fingers and reached for the door, pushing it closed with a click that seemed to signify something definitive. He tossed the first aid kit onto his dresser and turned to face you on the bed, choosing to lean back against the wall instead of joining you among the covers.

“That no one’s good enough for you. That he thinks no matter who you finally settle for, they won’t be good enough for you.”

You blinked. Your brother had said that? The same one that gave you a hard time for dating or sleeping with whoever you liked? For not being ashamed of how much you liked to have sex? The same brother that shit on every reckless choice you made, whether it paid off or not?

“You’ve been off-limits to all our friends since you were in middle school,” Seokjin continued, rubbing a nervous hand along his arm. “I’ve even heard him threaten a few after they snuck out of your room.”

Alright, so maybe Yoongi had been a little more overprotective than you’d been aware of. But he’d also told you directly to stay away from Seokjin. Had he told his friend the same thing about you?

“What about you? Did he say I was off-limits to you?”

Seokjin hesitated. “Well, no, not in so many words.”

“Then why do you think that includes you too? You’ve been his best friend forever.”

“Would I stay that way though if I had an interest in his little sister?” he asked, though it sounded like it wasn’t the first time the question had come up for him. “I guess I’ve always been too chickenshit to find out.”

You held back a laugh. “If anyone isn’t good enough in this situation, it’s both of us for you.”

“What are you talking about, good enough?”

You shrugged. “You’ve always been the nice guy who’s friendly with everyone. You’d give the shirt off your back to any stranger who needed it,” you said, trying to focus on the conversation and ignore the fact that currently Seokjin had no shirt on to give away to anyone. “Yoongi and me, we…we’re the too blunt, too direct people that everyone avoids. We’re lucky to have someone like you in our lives. Someone that finds us tolerable.”

He chuckled softly, fingers stroking lightly under his chin in a moment’s contemplation. “You know, I wouldn’t even be in medical school if it wasn’t for you.”

“You mean if it wasn’t for Yoongi?” you tried to correct. After all, they’d applied and gone through this far together.

“No. I mean you.”

You cocked your head in confusion and once again patted the bed in front of you. On the practical side, it felt like the kind of conversation you should be having closer together. And on the emotional side, you suddenly wanted Seokjin within your reach, to seek comfort in his touch now that you were finally having this conversation.

Seokjin bit his lip for a moment before moving slowly toward the bed and sinking down in front of you, crossing his legs in front of him and facing you.

“You’ll remember I wasn’t the most confident kid.”

“You?” you asked in surprise, then slowly nodded in agreement after a little more thought. “Alright, I guess that’s true, though you’d never know it now.”

“Awkward, nerdy, thick glasses, more bad haircuts than a kid should be forced to live through.” He sighed. “It was rough there for a while.”

You giggled, memories of each of those haircuts rolling through your mind.

“When I got to high school I really wanted to make a change, to join a sport and make more friends,” he continued. “I thought track would be perfect for my build and stamina, but I was so scared to be teased or bullied, especially if I wasn’t any good. I remember Yoongi being home sick and me coming to walk you home from school. I told you I wanted to chicken out of the tryouts the next day. Yoongi would’ve told me to suck it up and just go. And I wanted so badly for you to tell me it would be okay to just give up.”

The memory of that conversation resurfaced in your mind too. And with it, one of a long list of your very poor life choices. “Oh, no.”

“Yeah,” he said with a stifled laugh. “You took off running. Telling me to catch you. Running right into traffic.”

You put an embarrassed hand to your mouth. Yes, you were only in middle school at the time, but your sense of self-preservation should’ve been much stronger than to make a decision like that.

“It uh…it made sense to me at the time?” you said with probably not enough mortification.

Seokjin let out a warm laugh, as though the memory was less terrifying and more heartwarming.

“I’d never run so fast in my life to get you out of the middle of that street. That multi-lane street,” he groaned. “We definitely almost died at least three times before I got you across and onto the sidewalk. And I remember you staring up at me and saying-”

“See, you’re a really good runner,” you said slowly. Seokjin breathed another laugh and his face warmed as his smile spread.

“Yeah. You were there for my tryout too. I remember all the adults getting upset at how loud you cheered like it was a football game or something,” he chuckled. “I made it in because of you, love. I got scouted because of you. And that track scholarship was the only reason I got to go to college in the first place. It’s the only reason I get to have this career that I already love so much.”

“Well, there’s tons of dumbass kids like me that are gonna need a doctor like you, especially if they don’t have any track stars there to rescue them from their mistakes.”

You both broke out into laughter at that and the sound of it filled Seokjin’s bedroom, warm and comforting like the perfect cup of tea on a cold winter morning.

“I forgot all about that,” you said, wiping away a tear from the corner of your eye. “You never even told me off for being an idiot and running into traffic. You just kept saying…”

“Be careful,” he said in the same soft, patient voice you’d been listening to since you were a kid, deeper, more mature now, but with the same soothing quality. Even then, even when you’d almost gotten both of you so seriously hurt, Seokjin was too kind a spirit to muster any scolding beyond looking after you.

“So if anyone needs anyone, it’s definitely been me that’s needed you. That’s not the only time you’ve been my much-needed confidence booster,” he said. You noticed then that he’d clasped his fingers together, fidgeting as he rubbed them against each other. “And I…I definitely find you more than tolerable.”

You took his cue, sliding forward across the bed until you sat just in front of him and slipping your hands between his. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, of course,” he murmured. He glanced behind you for a moment. Or maybe he was trying not to focus directly on your face when he spoke. “So you, uh, you really dream about me?”

“Oh, all the time,” you said casually. It was out now, so what was the point of being coy about it?

Seokjin blinked and scrunched his nose in the endearing way he always did when he got nervous. “I’m kind of afraid to ask what they’re about.”

You flicked through images in your head, some of which were enough to bring a little heat even to your cheeks. But you supposed it was now or never.

“A lot of things. We’ve been on a lot of adventures. Done plenty more stupid things. But most often? I dream about what it would be like to go on a date with you. To kiss you, cuddle with you. Put your enormous cock in my mouth. Sit on your dick.” You looked down at the plain, soft T-shirt you wore. “Though, in my dreams, I’m usually dressed in something a bit more flattering.” You glanced up at Seokjin before you continued and bit your tongue as you watched his eyes slowly widen. He’d always appreciated your straightforwardness, but this level of honesty may have been a little too far, regardless of how true.

Seokjin’s deep groan echoed lightly around the room.

“Wow, love. Your dreams sound a lot like mine. Even your clothes.” His eyes flicked down to your body draped in his shirt. “Especially in my clothes.”

You blinked, feeling happy, and yet a little frustrated at the admission. “I’m so confused. You haven’t acted interested at all in all this time.”

He actually snorted. “I couldn’t show it. I’ve had to run away from you so many times. Every time you wear something short and let me see those delicious thighs for free. Every time you lean over to smell my cooking and I fought with my own DNA to take my eyes off your chest. Every time…well every time you’re around I go a little more insane honestly. I use school as an excuse, but that’s not the only reason I can’t be around for very long when you come over. You’re so hot it makes my dick hurt.” He groaned again. “I’m ashamed of some of the places I’ve had to rub one out just to get you out of my head.” He pulled his hand away from yours, placing it over his mouth as though saying the words had burned him on the way out. “It never worked anyway,” he mumbled through his fingers.

Oh.

“It can’t just be Yoongi that kept you from telling me this. How come you’ve never said anything?”

“I…I didn’t think I was your type. Race cars, tattoos, cigarettes, bar fights. Not guys who don’t know anything about cars, who spend every weekend studying, gaming, or working. Not…me.”

Now it was your turn for reminiscing. “You remember my eighteenth birthday?”

“Yeah, of course,” he said. You didn’t miss the newest rosy blush that sprouted across his cheeks.

“I’d spent half the day arguing with my parents about going to auto tech school, not even knowing if they were going to kick me out over it. It was the most miserable birthday of my life. And then you and Yoongi took me on that midnight boat ride.”

Seokjin’s smile returned as you recalled the memory, brightening up his whole face. “You caught the biggest fish I’ve ever seen. I’ve never been so put to shame before by someone who’d never been fishing a day in their life.”

“And then we came back and climbed onto the roof and you guys had baked me a little cake and you sang me happy birthday under the stars. It was…perfect.”

“Yeah,” he said, voice noticeably smaller, smile turning a darker shade of reminiscent.

“Seokjin.”

“Yeah?”

“You kissed me.”

He stayed silent, worrying his plump bottom lip between his teeth.

That night, your brother had gone inside to get you all drinks. Seokjin’s long frame was sprawled out next to yours on the roof, bodies comfortably close as you both stared up at the star-dotted sky. He’d told you that he never doubted you’d always get exactly what you dreamed of. And that he and Yoongi would be there for you to support you down whatever path you wanted to follow. And then he’d sat up, his beautiful face hovering just above you against the glittering backdrop of stars, and given you the softest kiss, hot in a way that seared through your every layer, imprinting itself on your soul. You’d threaded your fingers into his hair and melted into his kiss and tasted the sweet of cake frosting and happiness and him. Your brother had come back just after you’d leaned apart and, though you’d never been able to forget it, neither of you had spoken about it since.

Seokjin hung his head, seemingly weighed down by the recollection. “It was the next day that Yoongi told me no one would ever be good enough for you. I never knew if he saw us or if he could just tell how close I was getting to you and he didn’t like it. I didn’t know, and I didn’t want to ruin anything, so I…I just backed off.”

You nodded. “I don’t think it was long after that that he told me you were off limits too.”

“So see, even I’m not good enough for you, Y/N.”

“Seokjin, you’re not just Yoongi’s friend, you’re mine too,” you said, a little more defensively than you meant. “You know that right?”

“Of course I do, love,” he said hurriedly. He lifted your hands then, planting a soft kiss against the back your yours.

“You’ve supported me my whole life, through every misstep and triumph and doubt you’ve always been there for me. Studying, gaming, working, and being a great friend. I don’t care about all that other shit. I care about someone who’s kind to me, who respects me, who likes me for who I am exactly as I am. That’s my type. And that’s always been you.”

“Always will, love,” he said quietly, punctuating his words with another kiss to the back of your other hand.

“So,” you started, a little emboldened by his touch. You leaned toward him with a cautious grin. “You kissed me and then spent all these years running away from me only to go rub one out, huh?”

He groaned and pulled one hand away, pressing it against his mouth as pink blossomed in his cheeks again. “Why did I tell you that? That’s so embarrassing.”

“Oh, I want to hear more,” you said, sure your grin had turned mischievous. “I told you about my dreams. Tell me what else we do in yours?”

He swallowed and you watched as thoughts he’d clearly buried for a long time resurfaced on his face. He rubbed his fingers nervously against his lips and his eyes betrayed him, drifting slowly down to land on yours.

“I spend a lot of time dreaming about your mouth. Kissing you for hours. Biting your lips. Tasting your tongue. Though I suppose I’ve had some of that experience now.”

You leaned forward and met your lips to his again, starting out with the lightest press to test that he still wanted this. You felt his lips part slightly, felt him lean into the kiss, and you sank into him further. You swiped your tongue slowly across his lower lip and just as he leaned into you, preparing to reach for more, you pulled away. Seokjin looked a little dumbstruck, exhaling softly as he stared down at you, fingers of the hand still gripping yours clutching you tighter.

“Dreams can’t compare,” he said breathlessly.

You chuckled and sat back on the bed, slipping your hand from his and widening the space between you. It was selfish, but the look of desperation that flashed across Seokjin’s face as he watched you move away was worth it.

“What else?” you asked teasingly.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, or maybe to taste what you’d left behind, and a wave of heat swept across your skin as his gaze drifted lower on you.

“Kissing your neck.”

You leaned your head to one side, encouraging him to come and take an active part in his fantasy.

Seokjin didn’t hesitate, sliding forward on the bed this time and meeting your mouths together again. He cupped your cheek as his lips moved away from yours, kissing down your jaw until he landed on your neck. He kissed the skin there so lightly, so tender, and the effect was brand new for you. You had never had someone turn you on with so little while making you feel so precious. He kissed down to the base of your throat, pulling aside your shirt so his lips could roam across your collarbone, and finally returned to your neck with another tender kiss that became a slow lick that became a teasingly soft bite. Your mind was spinning at his achingly slow contact and you couldn’t hold back, letting a soft moan escape your lips. The sound seemed to shake Seokjin from whatever spell he’d been drawn into and he leaned away slightly, warm breath ghosting across your now damp skin.

“Keep going,” you encouraged, arousal already thick in your throat.

“I dream about touching you everywhere, beautiful,” he confessed, his own voice gone husky with his desire. “Your body drives me insane. You do.”

“So touch me, Seokjin. Just like you dream. I want you to.”

You nudged his face up, capturing his lips in another smoldering kiss. His hand moved up then, sliding under your—technically, his—shirt and cupping the full swell of your breast in a gentle squeeze. His other hand joined a moment later at your other breast and you arched into his touch, sighing contentedly into his mouth. He leaned back and released a shaky breath as his lips parted from yours. You started to pout until you felt the tug of him lifting your shirt, sliding it over your arms and off of you. His lips went back to your neck, maddening wet kisses pressed against your throat as his hands found your breasts again. He teased your nipple in slow circles with his thumb and you could feel his smile against your neck as your breath hitched in response to each stroke, wider still at the soft moan that broke free as he gave one of them a light pinch.

His satisfied groan rumbled against your neck. “If you knew how often I dream about putting your fantastic breasts in my mouth,” he said, tone gone dark and syrupy. His lips traveled down your neck again, your chest, a trail of hot kisses against your skin until he reached your breast and took a slow lick at the nipple he’d pinched. His hand still gently caressing the other, he circled the tender bud lazily with his tongue, leaving you panting, body arching into him.

“Your whole body. You’re so beautiful it hurts,” he said, making a wide, wet swipe with the broad of his tongue before pulling in your nipple again in a gentle suckle. You slid a hand forward, burying your fingers into the thick hair at the nape of his neck and tipping your head back. Your body trembled at the sensation of his mouth on you this way, naturally arching into his touch as he satisfied cravings you’d held close for so long.

Seokjin swapped breasts then, wrapping his lips around your other nipple and freeing his hand to travel further down your body. He caressed the soft of your belly and settled on your uninjured thigh, giving the thick of you there a firm, hungry squeeze.

“Touch me. Please,” you begged immediately and although he technically already was, you had a feeling Seokjin could tell exactly where you wanted to feel him right now. He hesitated for a moment, hands and tongue slowing to a pause. And though every part of you was aching for him, you waited for him, waited for his decision on how far he wanted this to go, ready to meet him where he needed. You felt his resolve harden as his hand continued its path downward, squeezing your inner thighs before finally sliding between your legs. Immediately, his fingers met your bare heat and the wetness that had been building since your kisses had first begun.

“Y-you got this wet for me?” he panted against your nipple.

“Seokjin, you’re the hottest man I’ve ever known. You’ve been shirtless the whole night, kissing me and sucking on my nipples and calling me beautiful. Yes, I’m fucking wet for you.”

Seokjin lifted his head from your breasts, angling up instead to kiss you, the firm warmth of his chest pressing against your own as his fingers stroked your wetness, back and forth. You inhaled sharply as he swept his fingers across your sensitive clit, breathing more of Seokjin, thinking that you could never tire of his tongue exploring your mouth again and again. You would never get enough of tasting him, of kissing him, of being this close to him. You slid your arms around his shoulders and pulled him closer as his fingers alternated between stroking your aching slit and making slow, agonizing circles around your swollen clit.

“Hottest you’ve ever known, hm?” he said, breaking from your lips.

“You already know it, you just like having your ego stroked,” you offered back, though your words had a needy edge thanks to his busy fingers. “Got your hairstyle under control and we haven’t been able to stop you since.”

Seokjin only chuckled shyly. Though it was true that his confidence had grown to a healthy level over the years, his humility had grown along with it. Which was why, even though he knew what you said was true, and even though his fingers were between your legs, he still had the beginnings of a new blush spreading across his cheeks at the compliment.

Finally, he sank his fingers inside you and you leaned forward against him, burying your head in his neck and panting a whimper that ended in a fragmented moan. Seokjin paused his movements, much to your disappointment, and made a nervous glance back at his bedroom door.

“I think Yoongi and his date are asleep in his room,” he said softly into your hair.

His date? Yoongi hadn’t mentioned he had a date over when you asked if you could come crash. His bedroom door had been closed, so you’d assumed he was already asleep when you got here. You clenched down involuntarily around Seokjin’s fingers inside you and decided you really didn’t want to think about your brother at the moment.

“It’s alright,” you said. You reached down and cupped Seokjin’s hand with your own, pressing his fingers deeper inside you. “We’re only dreaming, remember?”

With another shy laugh, Seokjin curled his fingers, sending a ripple of pleasure through your body and coaxing another of your moans into the little dip just above his collarbone. His mouth found a new home at your earlobe, licking and biting softly as he found his rhythm in the wetness of your pussy. His other hand hadn’t forgotten its mission, not-so-gently squeezing the soft flesh of your breast and rolling the firm sensitive bud of your nipple between his fingers.

Before you lost yourself entirely to his touch, you reached down for him through his shorts, this time slipping your hand past the waistband and finally curling your fingers around his cock. He was so hot to the touch, the skin soft and smooth in an almost jarring way compared to how hard he felt. As you palmed the veined length of him slowly, you accepted that your imagination was highly inaccurate; Seokjin was more enormous in your hands than your dreams had ever managed to capture. You tried hard to focus your movements on him, but between his thumb circling your clit, the pads of his fingers rhythmically knocking against that sweet spot inside you, and his damn mouth, wet and teasing on your ear, you felt overwhelmed, only managing a few half-hearted strokes as your pleasure rapidly threatened to spill over.

“Seok…”

It hit you before you were ready, his name interrupted by your shuddering moans as wave after wave of pleasure crashed into you. Seokjin didn’t let up, his fingers still stroking back and forth as you rode through your climax, his tongue still circling your ear. Once you finally stopped trembling he slipped his hand from between your legs and leaned back a little, pressing the softest kiss to your forehead. You looked up to meet the dark, polished amber of his eyes. And if you didn’t know any better, you’d swear the smile on his face was just a little bit smug.

“You’re so sensitive, love,” he said, purring the words like a satisfied cat.

“You seem a little too pleased about that,” resisting the urge to nuzzle your face into the warmth of his neck.

He stroked the fingers of his dry hand along your shoulder and down your arm. “I wanted to make you feel good.”

You pulled yourself up onto your knees and motioned for Seokjin to move further back toward the head of the bed. He obliged and you kneeled between his legs, leaning forward to kiss his lips. Seokjin’s hands went to your hips, but you backed away a little, instead kissing down his neck, pathing along his chest until you reached one of his dusky brown nipples. You teased the tiny bud with your tongue, listening to his soft whimpers at the attention. You pressed down on a soft bite and smiled at Seokjin’s responding half-moan, half-exhale.

“I’m not the only sensitive one,” you said. Seokjin only chuckled lightly in response and placed his fingers atop your head, making a gentle stroke across your hair.

You backed away again and curled your fingers under the waistband of his shorts, sliding them down past his hips. You blinked for a few moments, unsure when your hands had frozen in place in your mission to finally disrobe him. You just remembered staring, your mouth falling open at the sight of the biggest cock you’d ever seen, bobbing tauntingly against well-defined abs and the sluttiest slim waist.

“Y/N?” Seokjin asked, and the strained concern in his voice broke you from your reverie.

“S-Seokjin,” you managed to stammer, though you didn’t tear your eyes away from his lower head. “No wonder you’re so ripped having to carry this around all day.”

He breathed out a shy laugh.

“Your dick is…” Magnificent? Insane? The biggest, most glorious, breathtaking cock you’d ever seen? It all felt ridiculous and yet…the right words wouldn’t surface. Maybe there weren’t any words good enough. Yes, you had seen plenty of cocks, but apparently, you had never seen the cock until now.

It took you a second to realize his hands were moving down, trying, but naturally failing to hide his third leg. “You don’t have to…” he mumbled. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable so we don’t have to…”

You blinked, still working through your shock. Nothing in your imagination could’ve prepared you for this. But as his words finally sunk in, you looked up at him in confusion.

“Uncomfortable?”

“Yeah. It’s…some have said that before. So you don’t have to. It’s okay.”

“Are you kidding?” You brushed his hands aside, taking in the thickness, the deep pink of it, the tantalizing pearl of precum pooled at the tip that had you all but salivating. You wrapped your fingers around him and gave his full length a long, satisfying stroke and he whimpered at the movement. “I want nothing more.”

Seokjin’s hands were still close by yours, his gaze once again drifting past you.

“I just…I don’t know that I can…that I’m...what I mean is I haven’t really…”

His sudden communication struggle left you feeling unsure of what signal he was trying to get across. As much as you didn’t want to, you took your hands off of him.

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”

“I want to!” he said, then bit his lip in embarrassment at his own enthusiasm. “Believe me, I want to. I…”

You let his words marinate, taking in the concern now pressed between his eyebrows.

“You’re worried you won’t fit? Because yes, your cock is massive, but I know you’ve studied enough anatomy to know that I can get you in me with no problem.”

“I just don’t want to hurt you.”

You wanted to tell him you couldn’t wait for him to hurt you, but something about the uncertainty etched across his face had you changing your trajectory for once.

“You won’t hurt me. I don’t know what happened with your other partners, but we’ll go really slow, alright?”

Even with that, Seokjin still looked unsure. As kind as he was, it sometimes came at the cost of him hesitating to say what he really meant for the sake of others. Luckily for him, you’d never suffered from that affliction.

“What else? You’re worried…because I’ve had a lot of experience and you haven’t had much?”

He nodded.

“I do like sex, Seokjin.”

“I love that you enjoy sex. I love that you live so fully in your own body. I’ve always loved that about you.” His eyes drifted downward, settling on the sheets next to him, though you had a feeling he was looking at nothing beyond his thoughts. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m messing this up. I’ve just thought about you for so long that I…I’m kind of terrified to disappoint.”

You leaned down, laying next to him and curling your body against his long frame. As you settled into the curve of him, Seokjin wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close against him, warm bare skin to skin.

“I mean, on the whole, sex is just sex,” you said. “And based on the fact that you’re even worried about it, I guarantee you’ll give me a better experience than anyone else.”

He made an unconvincing nod, turning his face to kiss your forehead once, twice, again. He was nervous, you could feel it radiating off of his skin, see it in the tightness of his jawline, and thanks to years of reading his moods, you could feel the hesitation in the air around him.

You spoke softly into the crook of his neck. “There’s no one else in this dream, right? Just you and me.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly.

“You know me. And I know you. So there’s no pressure, no expectations. We can just enjoy being me and you, yeah?”

He turned to face you, finally focusing his eyes on yours. You waited, stared back into the beautiful brown of his, and let him search for whatever answer it was that he needed. Finally, he leaned forward, kissing you again, sweet and slow. He leaned away for a moment, slipping off his glasses and tossing them onto his nightstand before joining his lips with yours again. You sighed into his kiss and Seokjin’s arm wrapped around you tight as you kissed, and kissed, and lost yourself between his lips.

“I want you, Seokjin,” you panted when you finally broke away for air. “I want you so bad I can’t think straight.”

“Want you too,” he said in quick response, then immediately sought out your mouth again, tongue dancing with yours for what might’ve been hours. You both lie there, tangled in each other’s arms, kissing and making up for lost time and seeking solace and building trust together.

You hadn’t realized your hand had found its way back to the hard length of him until he gasped lightly into your mouth and you felt the heat of him in your grip. You nodded at him, making sure it was still what he wanted. When he nodded back, you slid your leg over his hip as Seokjin rolled onto his back. You leaned down to kiss him one more time, then up again as you lifted your hips to find the best angle to guide his enormous cock into you.

As the tip of him met your aching entrance, you had to remember to temper your eagerness with the reality that you would probably need to go very slow to adjust to the size of him. Between how wet he’d gotten you with his fingers and the glide from his ample precum, there was hardly any resistance as you slid him inside you. Except for…

“Fuck,” you hissed. “Your cock is so fucking big, Seokjin.” You had barely gone past the head, but it was already a tight fit. Seokjin hadn’t responded and you looked up to find his focus between your legs, watching as he slowly disappeared inside you. Plush lips slightly parted, he was already panting and looked about three seconds away from losing his mind.

Desire renewed, you lifted your hips and used the slick of you to slide down a little further. Your tactic worked, slipping in as much as you could handle, backing off, and slowly sliding him in again, his cock a little wetter from you each time. You took him slow inch by slow inch and feeling the gradual stretch of him inside you was almost as satisfying as watching Seokjin’s eyelids flutter as you sank down onto him. It took a little time and patience, but after what felt like a million inches later, finally you met the base of his cock.

“Holyfuckingshit,” he whined, words barely recognizable as they slurred together. You watched the knot in his throat bob, veins in his neck straining, head lolling back.

You had never been so full in your life. Even without moving, the feel of him pressing against your walls, taking you right to your limit, had molten heat collecting at the base of your belly.

“See? You’re just right.”

He finally leaned forward, staring up at you with half-lidded eyes. “You feel so good around me, love.”

You pressed your hands forward, finding your balance against his abs and slowly rocking your hips, moving the thick length of him in and out of you. Even at the slow pace, your breath grew shaky, the full stretch of him against your dripping pussy already tightening the coil inside you.

“So tight, beautiful,” he said, voice scratching low between his panting breaths. “So good.”

Seokjin’s hands slid up your thighs, landing on your hips as you guided yourself up and down. As your pace picked up, he quickly began to unravel. His grip on you tightened, fingers pressing into the soft of your skin. And slowly, his whimpers became throaty moans that rippled through you like little arcs of lightning, rolling in time with the press of him deep inside you, knocking against each perfect sensitive spot.

“Are you okay?” he asked between quick breaths.

“Better than ever. Please don’t stop.”

The mattress had begun to squeak lightly beneath you both as your rhythm built, but considering Seokjin’s dark stare, the expanse of his pupils taking in your bouncing body as if you were his own personal sunrise, you thought he’d long since lost any concern about what anyone outside this room might hear. You pulled one hand back to circle your clit, speeding you toward what felt inevitable.

“No, let me,” he said and for a moment your passion-addled brain wasn’t sure what he meant. He leaned up, lips closing around one of your breasts, tongue teasing your nipple. Then you felt his hand leave your hip and nudge yours aside. His fingertips grazed your clit, circling it with just the right amount of pressure to send your head spinning.

“Seokjin…fuck. I’m close,” you said, spilling the words out over your moans. You tilted your hips forward just a little and shuddered as the new angle had Seokjin’s cock hitting you in the perfect spot.

“Y/N,” you heard him pant between your breasts and hoped the adjustment was just as good for him. “It’s been…it’s been a while for me.” He leaned back his head and you looked down to see the muscles in his neck flexing, teeth clenched in his effort to hold back. You weren’t so far behind him that it would matter anyway.

“Okay. It’s okay.”

“No…condom,” he managed to grit out.

As if you wanted it any other way. Your only response was to squeeze down, impossibly tight around him, and Seokjin’s growling moan let you know he got the message. His fingers tensed where they gripped your side and he sat up further, lifting his hips and thrusting his cock into you with a renewed force. The plush of his mouth met your neck, your jaw, and finally, your lips again.

“Not without you, beautiful.”

He leaned back into the mattress, taking you down with him, lips never parting from yours. His free hand slid to cup your ass as he thrust his cock in and out of you faster still, his fingers between you circling your clit. You slid your hands up into his hair, gasping between drags of his lips and the moans pouring out of you every other breath. Each time his cock slid deep inside you could feel the cliff’s edge looming, the dizzying height leaving you a little afraid of the drop.

“Come for me, love,” he breathed inside your mouth, voice deep with a decadent richness you could almost taste. “I’ve dreamed about it so many times. I want to hear what you really sound like when you come on my cock.”

It was over for you. You moaned his name and perhaps a few expletives as your orgasm crashed into you, body quivering against him as pleasure rippled through your core and out to every corner of your being.

“Y/N,” Seokjin panted as he fucked you through every wave of your orgasm. You felt his hips shudder and tasted the growling moan on his lips as he buried himself deep inside you and finally spilled everything he had. His orgasm seemed to last for ages and you rode along with his every thrust and hip roll, your body close to teasing another tip past the brink as you drank in his pleasure.

Eventually, you felt his hips relax. He stared up at you, lips parted, shiny and inviting, eyes half-lidded and watching your body as it bobbed gently from the matching effort of both of your breathing. He slid both his arms around you, pulling you forward against his chest into an enveloping hug.

“Am I too heavy?” you asked, lips brushing against the searing skin of his neck.

“Don’t you move an inch, love.”

You lay there on top of him, planting soft kisses against his neck, surrounded by his intoxicating smell, mixed with the heady scent of sweat and sex you’d both created. You still felt so full even as he slowly softened inside you, the feeling of his cum leaking out around his cock adding to your satisfaction.

“So much better,” he whispered, nuzzling the tip of his nose against the side of your face. “Better than I’ve ever imagined.”

Finally, you felt his softened cock slip out of you and an unexpected, warm gush followed, sending a noticeable dribbling mess down your inner thighs.

“Holy shit. Do you always come this much? Though, I guess with a dick that big…”

His fingers roamed down your back before making a soft stroke across your ass. “You felt so good, love. I couldn’t hold back.”

“Well,” you say before playfully grazing your teeth against the skin of his neck. “You’re not done with me yet, are you?”

“I…I...” he stammered.

You let your lips brush against his cheek. “Unless you’ve had enough of me? No more dreams you’ve been dying to fulfill all this time?”

The hand at your ass paused and Seokjin bit into his bottom lip. Watching him sort through his thoughts with such a familiar, endearing habit was starting to melt you a little from the inside. It drove home how much you had missed spending time with him, that your busy lives and mutual pining had kept you apart far too much over the years.

“I do like you on top, but I’ve…I’ve thought about you a lot from behind too.”

Oh?

“Behind?” you said, both amused and pleased at his sudden straightforwardness.

He went quiet and you lifted your head, giggling as he tried to turn his head to hide his embarrassment.

“Seokjin, come on. You really don’t have to be shy about telling me how you want to have sex.”

“It’s not the sex. It’s…it’s you. I never planned on telling you how much I was into you and I…”

You quieted him with a light kiss.

“And since when have you been such a planner? Aren’t you the one who taught me to live a little without thinking to be happy?”

That got a laugh out of him. “I think I taught you a little too well, didn’t I?”

You nudged his shoulder in mock offense, even though he was probably right. “My point is, don’t worry about whatever you planned. It’s me. And you know me. So you know I want to hear everything. Just tell me.”

He hesitated again, having another of those internal battles, and you waited for him to decide how much he really wanted to share.

“Iwanttoburymycockinyouandwatchyouramazingassbounceagainstme,” he let out in one long, strained breath. He risked a nervous, sidelong glance at you once the words were out, gauging your reaction to his admission.

“Let’s get you ready then,” you said simply, following up with another kiss. Seokjin’s hand gripped your ass and you knew he intended to keep you right there, indulging in your lips while he hardened between your legs. But you’d already decided on other plans.

You sat up and turned your body to face away from him, meeting instead with the sticky mess that was his now wet, shiny cock. It fell limply to the side of his thigh, though even softened it was an impressive sight.

As you ran your tongue across the head, meeting the salty tang of the mixture of your arousal, Seokjin whimpered quietly from somewhere behind your ass. You smiled to yourself and took it as a sign to continue your work. You could admit to yourself that it was a selfish move since he’d clearly wanted to make out with you. But if one of his biggest fantasies was hitting you from the back, one of yours was definitely getting his cock in your mouth. Why not satisfy both goals tonight?

It didn’t take long for his length to start to thicken in response to the caress of your tongue. Gripping him at the base and slowly inching your mouth down him as much as your jaw would allow, the satisfying moans you coaxed out of him let you know that he was more than happy with your choice. Seokjin’s hands were on your ass and thighs as you worked, squeezing and stroking your skin between his slowly increasing breaths.

“Is...Is it weird that I like watching my cum drip out of you? It’s so hot.” He groaned. “You’re so hot, Y/N.” You felt his fingers spreading your pussy wide, felt another dribble of the mess he’d made leak again from inside you. How on earth was there still more?

“N-no, of course not,” you panted at the stimulation. “It turns me on more how attracted you are to me.”

“Look at you. My cum is still coming out of you.” His fingers spread your lips further apart and you felt a soft gush as more leaked from inside you. “I want to fuck it back inside of you, love. I’ve never been this turned on in my life.”

You moaned at his words. “I…I never thought you would talk to me like this.”

“Sor-”

“Don’t you dare apologize. I love it.”

You’d intended to go back to choking on his cock, but your plans were interrupted, a full-bodied moan tumbling from your lips as Seokjin slid at least two of his thick fingers inside your cum-soaked pussy.

“H-hey,” you breathed, though it didn’t stop the teasing rock of him inside you. “I said this was about getting you ready.” You let your hand continue where your mouth couldn’t, fisting his wet cock in a firm squeeze and coaxing another soft moan out of him.

“I was ready as soon as you got your lips on me, love. If you keep going much more, I’m probably not going to come where you want me to.”

You made a teasing wave with your ass, swaying back and forth in front of him. “Go where you really want then.”

Seokjin slipped his fingers from between your legs and slid from underneath you, positioning himself onto his knees behind you. As his hands landed on your hips, you felt another inexplicable dribble of his cum run down the side of your thigh. In as many partners as you’d had, you’d never had this kind of experience before.

“How long has it been for you that you had so much cum to give me?”

“It’s not time. I always…it’s always a lot. I’ve always been that way. If you like it…let me fill you up, beautiful.”

He bent forward and planted a light kiss on your shoulder that made you shudder, his lips slowly pathing their way down your back. You felt the bed shift beneath you and one of his hands leave your hip, and then the erotic press of the thick head of his cock between your folds.

You pressed your hips back in response and with all the lubrication he met no resistance. His cock slipped inside you and you leaned down a little into the bed involuntarily, raising your ass toward him, weak at the feeling of him inside you again at this new, satisfying angle.

Seokjin’s movements started slow and gentle, his thrusts hesitant as though you still needed time to adjust to the size of him. But you were far past the need for gentility. You wanted this man and his mammoth cock to turn your insides out.

“You can be rough, Seokjin,” you said, catching the desperate edge in your voice. It was taking all the strength you had not to slam yourself back into him, but this was Seokjin’s fantasy and you didn’t want to take over. A little guidance would have to do.

You looked back at him over your shoulder. He took a few moments to respond and you watched as he resurfaced from what seemed like a very deep focus on your rear end.

“…What?”

You licked your lips. “You wanted me from behind so you could watch my ass bounce, right? I bounce more if you fuck me. Hard. I like it.”

Seokjin groaned, fingers tightening the grip on your hips. “Shit, Y/N. You can’t talk to me like that.”.

“No? I’m just following your lead. You don’t like it?”

“I...I like it too much.” He breathed out in frustration. “I’m already ready to blow again because of your mouth on me, your pussy around me. Now your words too. You drive me crazy, love.”

“So don’t be gentle with me then. I can take your cock, baby. Fuck me, please?”

The moan you exhaled as he finally pressed himself into you to the base echoed around Seokjin’s bedroom. He pulled himself out and forcefully pushed back into you, this time letting his moans match with yours. As he found his pace between your legs, the music of the room only grew louder: the gasping breaths and satisfied whimpers between you both, the sticky, wet noises of your slick as his thighs met your ass again and again, the quiet squeak of his mattress in time with the movement of his hips, and the thrum of your heartbeat in your throat as he buried his cock deep inside you, filled you to your limit over and over.

As his hands made bruising grips on the thick flesh of your ass, you arched your back, letting go of yourself as he guided you closer and closer to your limit. Instead, Seokjin took the opportunity to pull you up toward him, the surprising change in angle making you clench down, though he continued fucking into you all the same.

“My cock fits in you so nicely,” he whispered into your ear, his breath hot on your skin, voice a dangerous new level of addictive. “Keep squeezing me just like that, beautiful.”

You whined as his teeth sank into your earlobe, as one of his hands made its way to your breast, cupping it in his hand and teasing your sensitive nipple between his fingers.

“What…” you breathed, your brain finding it a little difficult to form words between all the stimulation. “What happened to staring at my ass?”

“I can feel your ass. Your whole body.” He planted a long kiss on your neck and another on your shoulder. “This is all I’ve ever wanted.”

His lips found a home on your neck, kissing, sucking, licking, and driving you mad. You felt the searing, sweat-lined heat of his chest against the skin of your back, the light pinches and caresses as his hand kept up its toying with your breast. His other hand made its way between your legs, fingers swirling around your clit, and the coil of pleasure building inside you warned that it wouldn’t last for much longer.

“Am I fucking your pussy hard enough, love?” he asked softly, breath tickling the skin he’d left damp. “Will you let me hear you come on my cock again, baby, hm?”

Your head was spinning, hardly able to believe your ears. “Kim Seokjin. You have a filthy fucking mouth. I’ve never heard you talk like this in all the years I’ve known you.”

“You’re a bad, bad influence, love. Answer my question?”

“Yes, Seokjin,” you breathed, leaning your body back against his and surrendering to everything he was offering you. “Yes, I’m so close. Please.”

“Please what?” He pressed his lips against your skin and you could feel the spread of his smile there. You lifted a hand, cupping the side of his face.

“Please don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” he whispered. “I won’t.”

And true to his word, he didn’t. Your eyes rolled back as Seokjin’s vigor renewed, his cock pounding into the perfect spot inside you again and again and again, his thighs hitting your ass with enough force that your breasts shook each time he buried himself inside you, his greedy fingers rolling back and forth across your swollen clit, calling every ounce of your pleasure to him. It was all too much, the edge of release taunting you from a breath away.

Seokjin made a sudden half-groan, half-cry and your eyes fluttered open at the sound.

“Fffffuuuu,” he hissed, letting the curse trail off as his hips made you quiver. “Your pussy is squeezing me so tight. I..I…”

The guttural sound of his pleasure cresting, raw and vulnerable, was what finally sent you over the edge. Your orgasm crashed into you, shockwaves rippling through your entire body. Seokjin clung to you, hips jerkily thrusting his cock inside you as you squeezed down and milked every drop of seed he filled you with. Your hands went to meet his, gripping him just as close as you rode through your satisfaction together.

You’d never felt so full in your life. Even with him still buried to the hilt inside you, you could already feel hot cum leaking from around his cock, your womb overflowing. Seokjin held you for a few minutes as your breathing slowed, kissing your neck, your chin, your cheek. When you finally slid yourself from his grasp, your exhausted body leaned forward and collapsed ungracefully onto the bed. You felt all used up in the best way possible.

“Shit,” you heard him mutter from behind you. You glanced back to see him staring down at your ass, likely mesmerized by the mess he’d left there. You lifted yourself onto your knees and used the last of your energy to wave your rear end teasingly for him, hoping he could enjoy the show.

“I want to burn this image into my brain,” he said, swallowing hard, the knot in his throat jumping. “It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life “

You glanced back at him, biting into your bottom lip suggestively. “So take a picture.”

He blinked. “W..what?”

“Go on. I want you to look at it later and think about me.”

“I…” he didn’t continue, mouth hanging open instead.

“No plans, remember? Go on,” you encouraged. Seokjin was off his bed a moment later, grabbing his phone from his nightstand and angling it toward your ass. You turned away, not necessarily wanting your face in the picture, but if he minded that part he didn’t say anything.

You heard his phone land somewhere on the bed with a soft puff a few seconds later, his arm suddenly sliding underneath your body.

“Come here, love.”

He helped you up onto your feet and pulled you into his arms, wrapping you in a tight hug. Respectfully, neither of you had anything to say about the inconceivable amount of semen currently dripping down your thighs and leaving tiny drops on the floor at your feet. You nuzzled your face into his chest, content to be in his arms again.

“You’re amazing, you know that right?”

“Yeah, I do,” you said with a confident giggle.

He put his fingers to your chin and tipped your head up, kissing your lips this time with a deep satisfaction, as though he’d finally accepted he’d left you well pleased.

“I could probably fuck you again in five minutes if we keep this up,” he said after finally leaning away from your lips. “But I’m also tired as hell.”

Oh yeah. That was what you were supposed to be doing right now, getting some rest. Your own exhaustion hit you then, reminding you that even mind-blowingly good sex couldn’t make it go away.

“You’re about to pass out. Let’s get cleaned up and get some sleep, love.”

You tilted your head. “You could tell?”

He tapped your nose lovingly with the tip of his finger. “I’ve known you since you were two. I’d be ashamed if I couldn’t. You’re about to fall over on your feet. Come on.”

After a quick shower in his en suite involving a healthy amount of sweet kisses and Seokjin palming your ass like he never wanted to let go, you were spent. Truthfully, you could’ve fallen asleep on him, standing there soaped up under the spray of the warm water. He’d gone out to change his sheets while you toweled yourself off, and while part of you wanted to do some kind of mental recap of the night’s events, the majority of you just wanted to find the sleep you’d been searching for before all this had begun.

You walked out of his bathroom to find him throwing a fresh blanket over the bed. His eyes flicked to you as he noticed your movement, lips lifting in a half-smile as he brazenly admired your naked body.

“So, can I still sleep in your bed?” you asked, your voice husky with your fatigue.

Seokjin’s smile turned warmer, spreading across his beautiful face. He crossed the room and lifted you into his arms just as he had before, carrying you to his bed and laying you down in his sheets. Only this time he climbed in next to you, pulling you into his arms. He reached up and turned out the lamp on his nightstand before burying his face in your hair.

“I forgot how exhausted I was,” he said with a sigh, heavy with contentment.

Reaching up for him in the dark, you slid a finger across the plush of his lips. “Even tired, you still have such a dirty mouth when you fuck.”

“Y…Y/N…”

“Sweet dreams,” you said with a quiet giggle, settling into his arms and let yourself drift away surrounded by the scent, the warmth, the feel of Seokjin.

You rose from sleep on wings of pleasure.

Seokjin’s body was curled against yours, warmth radiating from bare skin to skin. You felt his breath at your neck, felt his stiff cock pressing against the curve of your back. And most importantly, you felt one of his greedy hands kneading the soft flesh of your thighs while his other arm was wrapped underneath your body, hand cupped beneath one of your breasts making gentle squeezes. You felt him between your legs, not quite grazing your sweet spot, but close enough to ignite the beginnings of wetness he had been coaxing while you’d been slowly waking from sleep.

“Nn…Seokjin?”

“Good morning, beautiful,” he purred into your ear, and if you had only been a little wet before, the sound of Seokjin’s morning voice full of gravel and desire had just taken you the rest of the way. You arched your ass back against him, savoring the rumbling groan he made in response to the contact.

“Good morning yourself.”

He pressed a kiss into your neck, grinding his cock against you, and his hand squeezed at your thigh again. It felt good to wake up in Seokjin’s arms like this, to have his attention so fully, to know he was this attracted to you. But no amount of teasing morning dry-humping could’ve prepared you for his next direct request.

“Can I eat your pussy, love?

You froze, unused to having someone ask the question rather than either avoiding the act entirely or diving in as they pleased. Although, considering what he’d said about his past experiences…

“Has…has someone told you no before?”

“No, I just didn’t want to assume that you…” He trailed off and you felt his face dip a little lower into the crook of your neck. “I wanted to wait until you were awake,” he mumbled.

You barely managed to stifle a giggle. “We had sex half of last night. You really think I wouldn’t consent?”

“You could change your mind,” he said, the pout in his voice vibrating close against your skin. “I wanted to be sure.”

You turned over in his arms. Backlit by the orange and yellow beginnings of sunlight peeking in through his blinds, the sight of Seokjin this close threatened to take your breath away. His dark hair was still roughly tousled from the night and an interesting mix of sleepiness, arousal, and embarrassment hung in his eyes as she stared down at you. You let loose a half laugh before pressing your mouth to his in what you hoped was a confidence-inspiring kiss.

“Yes, Seokjin,” you whispered against his lips. “I’d love it if you ate my pussy.“

He didn’t waste any time, face lighting up at your permission. A quick kiss to your lips was followed with another to your neck, your collarbone, traveling slowly down your body until you felt his warm breath on your slit. You were already aching for him as his hands gripped each of your thighs, careful not to touch your injury as he spread them apart and gently kneaded with his fingertips.

“So pretty,” you felt, more than heard him say, the vibrations of his deep voice at the apex of your thighs. Looking down and watching him between your legs, Seokjin’s handsome face staring at your core with such reverence, you felt more aroused than you had in your life, tempered by a bashfulness you hadn’t felt in years. Only he could do that to you, make you feel like someone so sacred over something so erotic.

He first met your lower lips much like he would your upper ones, a gentle kiss against your folds that sent a satisfying shiver up your spine. Soft kisses turned to slow, teasing licks, gentle grazes with his tongue that coaxed quiet sighs out of you. Your body relaxed into the sheets, the tension in your muscles evaporating as Seokjin somehow used his mouth as a painter would, turning you into a masterpiece all his own. This felt so new somehow. Something that was usually so hard and fast, that others wanted to get out of the way. Not Seokjin. Not patient, meticulous, giving Seokjin.

When his pillow-soft lips finally landed on your clit, you whimpered in pleasure, your fingers reaching out and sliding into his hair. But there was nothing hurried in it, nothing taut. Only feeling, craving, only the slow, sensual build of something earthly and carnal.

Sunken so deep in the bliss he was giving you, you hadn’t registered the sound of your lustful moans until Seokjin’s fingers tightened against the flesh of your thighs. You realized only a moment before falling that he had no intention of satisfying you with anything besides his mouth. And suddenly your body bloomed with light, with heat and a pleasure like you’d never known. You lifted your hips as your orgasm vibrated through your body and Seokjin’s tongue met you through it all, lapping up your release with eagerness.

He kissed along your inner thighs as you came down, up the soft, round of your belly, lingering at your breasts before finally meeting your mouth with a long, satisfying kiss.

“Where the hell have you been hiding those pussy eating skills?” you asked in a breathless whisper when your lips finally parted.

“No skill,” he said, and you could hear that hint of smugness in his smile. “You just taste delicious, love.”

“Bullshit,” you said, but Seokjin only slid to your side and hugged you close in response, his noticeable erection pressing once more against your lower back.

After a few moments of letting the afterglow settle, you moved to get out of Seokjin’s bed. Before you choked on his cock again, which you fully intended to do, you were in desperate need of a glass of water. But his arm around your waist only tightened, holding you back. He pressed a light kiss to your shoulder.

“I don’t want you to go,” he said, words humming against your skin. “I don’t want to wake up yet.”

You raised one of your hands, laying it on top of his at your waist. “I’m just going to get a drink. What makes you so sure I won’t come back?”

“Will you?” he asked, and a breathless vulnerability hung between his words. “I mean, I want you to, but…” He huffed in frustration. “Look, I know this was only meant to be a dream, but it wasn’t just sex for me, Y/N.”

You turned over in his arms, making sure to meet his eyes as you spoke.

“You think I only dreamed about you for sex? You were in my dreams, Seokjin, not just your dick. You and your terrible jokes, and pretty smile, and brilliant brain. You, the kindest person I’ve ever known. You, my friend. I only dreamed about you so much because I never thought I’d really get to tell you just how much I like you.”

“I like you too.” His words came out rushed and you both laughed at the awkwardness.

You sighed. “I can’t believe I really spent all this time thinking you weren’t into me at all.”

“I did kiss you, you know.”

“Yeah. And then never again. I…I guess I didn’t know what to think. With Yoongi’s warning maybe I thought…I thought you didn’t like me after that or something.”

His fingers reached up, trailing along the skin of your arm in nonsense circles. “I like you,” he repeated slowly. “If you…want to try this, I’ll talk to Yoongi, so…”

You pulled his hand away from your arm, sliding your fingers between his. “We’ll talk to him. My brother’s an asshole, but not usually without good reason. Now that I know this is mutual between us, I want to know why he decided to try and keep us apart all these years.”

“Now that I get to kiss you, I don’t know if I care.”

“Does that mean you’ll stop kissing me like you’re not sure?”

He blinked. “What?”

“You’ve been hesitating, holding back.” You put your free hand to his cheek. “I’ve been kissed by you before, remember? I know what it feels like when you really mean it.”

Not one to ignore a request, Seokjin crushed his lips to yours. There was a new eagerness in his mouth this time, tenderness and need and the hint of starlight that you remembered. Your thumb stroked his cheek as he drank deep from your lips, as he finally made you believe in this kiss.

“Does this also mean I’ll get my friend back?” you said after you’d finally parted.

“Hey, what? You never lost me.”

“I kind of did,” you argued. “You buried yourself in school, I started working a hundred jobs and…I miss us. I miss late-night karaoke and video games and watching terrible movies until the sun comes up. I miss telling my bad ideas to someone who isn’t just as reckless as I am, aka Jungkook, or someone who won’t call me an idiot and walk away, aka Yoongi. I miss cooking and playing sports together. I miss…you. So much, I didn’t even realize it.”

“I miss you too. I’m sorry, Y/N. I got so focused on trying not to cross a line with you, I accidentally pushed you away.”

He pulled your fingers from the side of his face and kissed the back of your hand lightly a few times in continued apology.

“Do you have work today?” he asked.

“Later tonight, yeah,” you lamented. “You?”

“Nothing. Studying.”

“Well, I’d be happy to lie in your bed on days you study,” you offered to lighten the mood. “I’ll only distract you about fifty percent of the time. Maybe give you a little stress relief.”

His other hand gripped your ass, giving your cheek a healthy squeeze. “I’d better keep studying at the library, and you’ll be at the race track most days anyway. But I’d be happy to have you ass up on my bed on nights when you’re free. And…maybe a date here and there?”

“Is that you asking me out?”

He gave you a blushing nod. “If you want to see where this goes.”

You responded with a tight hug. “Of course I do.”

“And I want to hear about all your dreams,” he said shyly. “Learn everything you like.”

Your mouth was at his again and there was no more hesitation in his kisses, finally fully indulging in you, fully accepting that you wanted this with him.

“Is this going where I think it’s going?” he panted against your lips.

“Only if you promise the same as the kissing. You don’t have to fuck me like you think I want you to.”

The steel hardening in his dark eyes as he stared into yours sent electricity skittering across your skin.

“I wouldn’t fuck you then. I’d make love to you.”

A warmth settled in your chest at those words, unwrapping something new and exciting and yet so familiar between you both. “Do that then, Seokjin. Please.”

There was nothing left to say. Seokjin’s lips were on yours, his hands at your hips, molding your bodies into one blazing point of heat. He rolled on top of you, knees gently pressing your thighs apart, the thick tip of his cock finding your soaked entrance easily. Without ever parting your lips he was inside you in one dizzying thrust, thick, and long, and hard, and buried in you so deep you thought you might faint. Both your moans mingled with the wet of your kisses, as his cock paced slow alongside your pleasure. You slid your arms over his broad shoulders, burying your fingers in the thick, dark hair at the nape of his neck while your body turned to jello beneath this man you loved so much.

Just like with his kiss, this was on a different level. You’d had plenty of sex before. Hell, you’d had sex with him just last night. This was an entirely different experience. Seokjin rocked his cock in and out of you with slow decadence, highlighting each second as its own special moment, as something to be treasured.

“Seokjin,” you found yourself whining, finally pulling yourself from his kiss, gasping for breath.

“Yes, love?” he said, voice honeyed and thick. “Tell me what you need.”

“You,” you breathed, not even sure what you were saying anymore. “Just you. Please.”

A growl escaped him and he buried his face into your neck. “Every time you say please to me, I lose a little more of my mind.”

“Please,” you rasped again, barely able to catch your breath, your grip in his hair feeling a little less anchoring, a little more desperate.

Seokjin’s hands slid under your hips, tilting them slightly and driving him inside you deeper, knocking against the very spot that made you cry out louder for him. The grind of him against your clit as he sped his thrusts inside you and the echo of his deep moans sent you on a spiral, chasing you toward an end you didn’t know if you could handle.

“Love,” Seokjin said in the gentlest whisper just beneath your ear.

It was your name. It was what you shared with him right now. It was the feeling you’d had for him your whole life, what you’d been missing for too long, what you craved with him more than anything. It was that single word that lit magic within you, your body trembling, Seokjin’s name tumbling from your lips as you came undone beneath him. He leaned to capture you in another kiss and swallowed your cries as you came, groaning into your mouth as he met his own release alongside you, as you clenched down tight around his cock, as he spilled inside of you and your womb swelled again with his seed.

Finally spent, he slid his body off of you and you felt the now familiar warm gush between your legs as his cock slipped from between your legs. He pulled you close, kissing your cheek gently, though you could still feel the pound of his heart against his chest as it rose and fell.

“We’re going to have to start putting a towel down or something,” you said as the mess he’d left behind started to collect again underneath your bottom. “You only have so many sheets.”

“I can buy more,” he said simply. “I want you dripping for me every time, love.”

With as much as he came, that wouldn’t be a problem.

“I never want my cum anywhere else but inside you ever again. Your pussy, beautiful. I need this pussy.”

You giggled and nuzzled your face into his neck. “There’s that filthy mouth again.”

Seokjin only chuckled in response and pulled your body closer.

After a visit to the bathroom, and borrowing a new shirt and a pair or shorts, you left Seokjin to once again clean up and headed into the kitchen to hunt down a cup of water and maybe get some coffee started.

On the upside, a pot of coffee was already brewing as you walked in. On the downside, it was Yoongi you found standing in front of the kettle.

“Sounds like it was a good night. And morning,” Yoongi said flatly.

“In spite of you, yes,” you quipped. Yoongi shrugged. Immediately your suspicion meter was rising. No smartass comment? No irritated huff? He looked almost...embarrassed?

“Oh.”

You heard Seokjin in the hall followed by a second very familiar voice muttering a quick, “Sorry.”

You turned to find a shirtless Jungkook walking alongside Seokjin toward the kitchen. You whipped your head in Yoongi’s direction, but he refused to meet your eyes.

“What the fuck?”

“I knew it’d happen sooner or later. You idiots are actually perfect for each other, you know?” You hadn’t missed that your brother was avoiding one topic in favor of the other.

“Then why’d you keep us apart all this time?”

“He was scared,” Jungkook offered. “He didn’t want to lose either one of you.”

“Shut up, Kook.” His eyes narrowed and you could see the reasoning wheels of a future psychiatrist turning behind them. “You two weren’t ready for each other yet. Y/N, you were still figuring your shit out, you barely had your own two feet under you. Jin, you’ve barely made time all throughout college to look at other people, let alone date someone. I didn’t want to be the third wheel without knowing the whole thing wouldn’t break down. I knew I had to step in after I saw you two trying to suck each other’s souls out on the roof. I figured you’d work it out when it was time.”

You and Seokjin exchanged a shy glance.

You’d probably never say it to his face, but Yoongi was right. If you and Seokjin had gotten together all those years ago, would either of you have been ready? Would you have lasted through the stress, the struggle of navigating your newly adult lives?

“Well, it looks like there’s four of us now,” Jungkook said with a smile way too cheerful for the moment. You snickered at your friend’s post-coital joyfulness, though how he’d managed to get past your brother’s defenses would have to be a long conversation later. Considering he was supposed to be at an important photoshoot all day yesterday, he’d better have a damn good explanation for how he even ended up here.

Seokjin pulled a pan from the cabinet, giving it a tiny spin in his palm.

“Breakfast?”

You leaned across the counter while Seokjin pulled another skillet from the cabinet and Yoongi started rooting through the fridge.

“So,” you said to Jungkook, leaning your face casually against your hand. “Did you take any good pictures yesterday?” you asked, barely holding back your smile as you watched the tips of Seokjin’s ears go a vibrant red out of the corner of your eye.

Taglist: @firesighgirl @yoosmekihyun @persnyako​ @angelsuni-ficwrecks @ikuyootori

[georgie-weasley]

Truth or Dare J.P. x Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, mentions of lame dares, mention of James getting a bloody nose, anxiety, Sirius Black

Word Count: 3.5k

Pairing: young!James Potter x Fem!Reader

Summary: You kept your secret crush on James, well, a secret. From everyone but Sirius that is. That was a big mistake as now he’s forcing everyone to play truth or dare. Not to mention everyone has taken some truth potion too

A/N: the song James sings is “I Will Survive” by Gloria Gaynor

Masterlist Taglist

The smirk on Sirius’s face was the only evidence you needed to know this was a horrible idea. There was a certain way his mouth would move when he came up with an idea that would end in some sort of disaster. Despite learning what this smirk looked like, you were never able to predict it before it happened. Usually, you noticed it much too late. Currently Sirius was smirking at you and you could practically see the gears working in his brain.

The afterparty the Gryffindor team had thrown to celebrate winning the Quidditch cup was finally winding down and you were sprawled out on the couch; the sound of conversations and the rain hitting the windows could have lulled you to sleep if it wasn’t for James. Your feet were resting on Sirius’s lap while your head was in James’s. His thumb was absentmindedly stroking your cheek as he carried on a conversation with Remus; the action sent butterflies to wreak havoc on your insides.

Sirius, who had only been watching the scene play out for a while, pinched your leg to get your attention. It was that action that caused you to look at him and see the terrifying smirk on his face. Months ago you made the mistake of confessing to Sirius about your crush on James. You hadn’t really meant to tell him since you thought you were just confessing to Remus but Sirius was the one who came in the empty classroom. You started spewing your feelings without looking to see exactly who came in. At least it wasn’t James.

But ever since then, Sirius made it a point to try and find a way to get you to admit your feelings for James to the man himself. You had him swear not to tell anyone, especially James and so far he’s followed his promise. Of course, you can never expect Sirius to keep his mouth shut for long.

“Everyone!” Sirius yelled and stood, shoving your feet off of him. “It’s time to play a little game of truth or dare, with a twist. Remus, it’s time.”

Remus abruptly ended the conversation with James and sprinted up the stairs to his dorm. As he came back down, he had a small vial in his hands and smirk that could almost rival Sirius on his face. He knew. After telling Sirius about your crush on James, you didn’t dare tell anyone else. It was bad enough that the biggest gossip in Hogwarts knew, no one else could know either. Except of course, Sirius told Remus; you were sure he told him because how else would he have known?

You weren’t sure if Peter or Lily knew but they soon proved they did when they also smirked at you. Did everyone but James know? You turned your head to risk looking at the boy that captured your heart but luckily he looked confused. You were safe, for now.

“What do you have Moons?” James asked, patting your arm a little before he helped you sit up.

“Yeah Moony, what’s in the vial?” Peter asked, nudging Lily with his elbow.

Remus looked you in the eye with a shit-eating grin. “Just a little potion Lily and I whipped up today.” He paused, no doubt for dramatic affect. “Veritaserum, the most powerful truth serum in the magical world.”

Sirius wandered over to Remus and plucked the potion from his hand. “Now any of you babies who pick truth over dare, won’t get away with a lie.”

At this, you scrambled off the couch and moved over to Sirius. “What are you doing? Don’t do this to me. Don’t do this to Remus.” You hissed, grabbing his arm. “You can’t be serious.”

“Newsflash love, I am Sirius and I’ve given you plenty of chances to admit your feelings but you never did. Now, we’re forcing your hand. Get over it and play the game babes.” He patted your head much like you would do to a dog and gathered everyone to sit in a circle on the floor. You were sure that somewhere in his brain, Sirius was doing all of this to help. You never asked him to help but he wasn’t the type to just sit back and wait for things to happen. In some way, he thought this was the best way to help you, or you hoped that was the case.

You took a seat on the floor between Lily and Peter. Despite them also knowing about your feelings for James, you hoped they would be kinder. Remus moved around the circle and placed a single drop of the potion in everyone’s mouth. Once everyone, including himself had one, he sat down next to James who was across from you. “This is a safe group for Moony. Everyone here already knows about his hairy little problem.” Sirius smiled and turned to Peter. “Time to test the potion. Pete, what’s something you would never tell anyone?”

“I wet the bed until I was 10.” Peter answered quickly. Everyone was silent.

You patted his back and smiled. “Don’t worry Wormtail. It’s alright.”

Sirius nodded slowly before he cleared his throat. “Anyway, let’s start with James. Truth or dare?”

“Dare of course.” James rolled his eyes and leaned back on his elbows. He looked so cocky with the smirk on his face but he sure looked good.

“Lovely. I dare you to serenade Moony. Pick whatever song you’d like.”

James jumped to his feet immediately. “At first I was afraid, I was petrified. Kept thinking I could never live without you by my side.” He dropped to his knees and began crawling toward Remus who was looking anywhere but at James. “But then I spent so many nights thinking how you did me wrong and I grew strong. And I learned how to get along!” He crawled into his lap and grabbed his face in his hands, forcing his friend to watch him. He mumbled for a while, making up the words he didn’t know until he got to the chorus. “Did you think I’d crumble? Did you think I’d lay down and die? Oh, no not I! I will survive!”

“Alright, that’s enough.” Remus groaned and shoved James off his lap. He adjusted his glasses and crawled back to his seat.

“Personally,” he said as he sat down, “I think that was my best performance yet.” James sent you a wink and the butterflies were back with a vengeance. “And I think you should go next Moony.”

“No matter what I pick I’m sure I’ll be embarrassed so, truth I suppose.” Remus sighed and rubbed his face. He was certainly having regrets about playing this game.

“When was the most inappropriate time you farted?” James asked through the giggles that overtook him. The rest of the group laughed along with him but you were too busy smiling to laugh. James had the cutest and sweetest laugh you ever heard. It reminded you of pure joy and you were sure if you could find a way to bottle it up and sell it, you'd be a billionaire.

“In History of Magic two weeks ago. Binns gave us a test and it slipped out. I blamed it on James and everyone believed me.”

James pouted and stopped laughing while everyone else only laughed harder.

---

The night continued with silly questions and dares and surprisingly, many of them were not directed at you. Either everyone had forgotten their plan to make you confess your feelings or it hadn’t happened yet. Just when you thought you were going to get out of this with your dignity still intact, Sirius turned to you. “Alright Y/N. I’m giving you the option here. Truth or dare?”

You didn’t know which one to pick. If you chose truth you were sure Sirius would force you to just admit your feelings. Dare had its own risks too. Sirius had made Lily and Peter switch tops (he actually looked quite cute in the crop top), Moony had to drop his pants and moon the group, and poor James had to try and do a backflip; his nose had just stopped bleeding. There was no winning. “Truth.” Sirius had that wild smirk back on his face. “No! I choose dare. I meant to say dare!”

“Too late. If you had to marry someone in the group, who would you pick and why?”

That actually wasn’t too bad. “James. He’s sweet and funny and he can always make me smile. He’s also pretty handsome too.” Perhaps you would have lied if you could have but with the way James was smiling at you, you were glad you had to tell the truth.

“James, since you won Y/N’s hand in marriage, she can do the honors of giving you your truth or dare.” Sirius patted James on the back and winked at him. That had to have been some sort of secret message between them.

“Well then, I choose truth as well.”

It would be easy to ask him if he liked you or if he liked anyone. He would have no choice but to tell the truth and then you would know. If he did like you, maybe things could change and you would tell him the truth too. Of course if he didn’t, your heart may never recover. You had been friends with Lily before you were friends with the marauders. Every time James would flirt with Lily or even talk to her, your heart would flutter. He eventually stopped bothering her and they became friends which meant you also became his friend. It had been a couple of years now and the friendship with James was easy. He was so caring and he always took the time to check on you and make you laugh. He was easy to fall in love with.

“What was the last lie that you told?”

James hummed as he tried to remember, a blush coating his cheeks. “I think it must have been when I told Sirius I didn’t have a crush on anyone.”

So he did like someone! That someone could even be you. You couldn’t help getting your hopes up as you watched him rub the back of his neck and look at the ground. Sirius looked at you and smiled, actually smiled; he must have been thinking the same thing as you. “Prongs, is your crush here?”

James nodded.

“Then I vote you have to kiss them!” Sirius proposed and everyone cheered.

James paled and shook his head. “I can’t do that. Everyone will know and if they don’t like me then everyone else will see it happen.” He looked as terrified as you felt.

“How about,” Remus said and quieted the group, “we all close our eyes so we don’t see who he kisses. Sound alright to you Jamie?”

He shrugged and everyone closed their eyes, including you. Once darkness fell, so did the silence. No one moved or made a sound until across the way you could hear James shuffling. The sound of his movements got louder and you assumed, and hoped, he was moving toward you. Then, all of a sudden, the shuffling stopped. Could he have stopped in front of Lily? Could he have stopped in front of Peter? Your heart was pounding in your chest and you were sure the rest of the group, possibly even all of Hogwarts, could hear it thumping. What if he didn’t kiss you? Would you be able to continue on with the friendship knowing there was no possible chance it could blossom into something more? You wanted to believe you could but it was hard enough to look at that messy hair and his sweet hazel eyes and his perfectly pink lips without knowing his feelings. How could you ever look at him again if you knew he felt nothing more for you than friendship? 

What if he did kiss you? Would you kiss him back or would you be too shocked? What if he kissed you and you forgot how to kiss? What if you sucked at kissing and it made him change his mind? What if it was magical and everything you dreamed it would be and you started dating and then eventually you broke up? Would it ruin the friendship? Was it worth the risk of losing him to even try and get him in the first place? You were never going to confess to him.

Your heart was beating faster and faster and all the air in your lungs escaped you. Your head was spinning and your thoughts were racing. Was the room always this hot or was it just you? Why was it still so quiet? Did something happen and you missed it? Had James kissed someone else and told everyone to open their eyes and you were sitting there with your eyes closed like an idiot? It was too much.

Your eyes flew open and you jumped back; James was right in front of your face with worry written all over his. His eyebrows furrowed and he grabbed your hand, steadying it. You didn’t even know you were shaking. “Hey, are you alright?”

You stared at him with wide eyes and glanced around him. Everyone else had opened their eyes and they were now watching you both. The air shot back in your lungs and your chest heaved as you tried to get your breathing under control. James continued to watch you, waiting for some kind of answer. When you didn’t have one for him, he grabbed your hand and helped pull you to your feet. “Let’s go to my dorm and get some air.” He started to lead you to the stairs but turned to look at the group one last time. “We’ll be back down in a bit. Just, stay here and give us some time?”

He put a hand on the small of your back to help guide you up the stairs. Once you were in the dorm, he grabbed your hand and pulled you over to his bed, helping you sit. “Stay right there.” He whispered before rushing around the room and throwing open all of the windows. The fresh air coming in did help calm your breathing. Your mind was still racing but as James sat next to you and you listened to the sound of the rain outside, your thoughts began to slow.

James slowly wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close to his side. “What happened?” He whispered. “I was crawling around and I could hear you breathing all heavy. Then you started shaking and I was going to check on you and then you kinda scared the shit out of me and opened your eyes.”

A small smile appeared on your face as you laid your head on his shoulder. James really could always make you smile. The smile didn’t stay long as you began speaking. “I was scared you were going to kiss someone else but I was scared you were going to kiss me. I started overthinking everything and I just got nervous.” The words flew out of your mouth before you could even think about what you were saying.

“Why were you scared?” James whispered and you could feel his body tense next to you.

“Because I’m in love with you.” Holy shit. Why did you say that? “I didn’t want you to kiss anyone else because I would never be able to look at you the same if I knew you thought of me as just a friend. But I was scared you were going to kiss me because then things would change and if something ever went wrong, I couldn’t live without you.” You just poured out your deepest secret about James to James. What were you doing? You decided to never tell James about your crush so why did you say it? You scanned the room, hoping that maybe there would be some answer and there was. Laid out on one of the beds was Remus’s favorite sweater. Remus.

The veritaserum! It was still working and it just made you spill your guts to James. You shoved yourself away from him and covered your mouth with your hands. James watched you with wide eyes but neither one of you moved.

Your chest was rising and falling rapidly as you watched him as well. What could you possibly say to make this better? “I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to tell you because I was so worried that it would ruin our friendship but that stupid potion really does work well and I couldn’t help myself. I want to say I’ll be fine if you don’t like me but I probably won’t be alright. I love you so much James but if you don’t love me in any sort of romantic way then I’ll have to live with it. Just please, don’t hate me; don’t leave me.”

James swallowed thickly and pushed his glasses further up his face. His cheeks were bright red and his bottom lip was pulled between his teeth. “Do you really love me?”

“Of course I do.” You dropped your hands from your mouth. You didn’t have to continue as you already answered his question truthfully but the damage was done. There wasn’t any more harm you could do if you told him why. “You’re the most amazing guy I know. You’re funny even when I lie and tell you I hate your jokes. You can make me smile no matter what kind of day I’m having. You make me feel special and loved and when I talk you give me your full attention. You remember my favorite book and my favorite food and you always remember my birthday. You’re perfect James. How could I not love you?”

His eyes traced over your body a few times before they stopped on your face. The way he was looking at you, the intensity of it all, made you want nothing more than to shy away. But you couldn’t. You had to see this through to whatever end. “Do you… do you love me too?” You whispered, unsure if he could even hear you.

“I do. I love you Y/N.” Time stopped as he spoke. You weren’t even sure if you were breathing anymore. Could this be a dream? It was only fitting that the man of your dreams confessing his love for you would happen in a dream. Gingerly, James reached out and took your hand. He was warm and a little sweaty; James always got sweaty hands when he was nervous. His palm was heavy on top of yours and as he scooted closer to you, you decided that if this was a dream, you didn’t want to wake up anytime soon.

He stopped moving when his face was just centimeters away from yours. “Can I kiss you?” This close you could see the deep browns and brilliant greens in his eyes. You could smell the cologne he put on after each quidditch match.

“Please.” That was all it took. He leaned forward and planted his lips on yours, softly at first but soon he leaned in further. His arms wrapped around your torso as your hands threaded through his hair. Your lips moved together in perfect harmony and you could no longer tell where you began and he ended. Desperate for more, you climbed onto his lap and your noses bumped.

“Ow shit.” James quickly pulled back and covered his nose with his hand. In the moment you had forgotten all about his poor nose.

“I’m so sorry James.” You whispered but soon started to laugh. Nothing was exactly funny but something about the whole situation was hilarious. James joined in your laughter and shook his head. As the giggles died down, he rested his forehead on yours.

“I should probably see Madam Pomfrey about my nose in the morning. I did hit the ground pretty hard.” James smiled and pecked your lips.

“What happens now?” You whispered, tucking some hair behind his ear.

“Besides finding some ice for my nose?”

“Yes,” you laughed. “Besides that.”

James hummed and rested his hands on your hips. “How about after my nose gets fixed I’ll take you on a date? We can go to the Three Broomsticks and take a walk. Maybe get some candy?”

“I’d like that a lot.”

“Splendid.” He mumbled and leaned in again, attaching his lips to yours. The dormitory door swung open and you quickly pulled away from him. Sirius stood in the doorway and as he took in the sight of you on his best friend’s lap and James still leaned in for a kiss, he smirked that same wicked smirk.

“Well, pardon me.” He winked at James and turned around, shutting the door behind him. You could still hear him yell, “Moony! Wormtail! We’re sleeping on the couch tonight boys! Prongs finally got the girl!”

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